"Sam?"
He grunted and shifted his head.
"Sam? You awake?"
He felt a light tap on his shoulder.
"What?" he groaned in response.
There was a chuckle that he recognized to be Kyle's. "You sound like you have to get up for work on a Monday."
Monday. Work. His eyes shot open and he forced himself up in his bed quickly, too quickly, and his body once again protested against the action, though noticeably less than before. As Kyle eased him back down onto the mattress, he looked around the room and remembered where he was.
"I was just kidding," said Kyle, grinning. "I didn't mean to actually scare you. You just looked so peaceful in your sleep, I couldn't resist."
"Right," said Sam. "Remind me to punch you in the shoulder when I get my strength back."
Kyle laughed. "It's good to have you back, man. I was worried about you last night."
"Don't be. I'm okay...now," said Sam with a smile of his own. He glanced around and noticed that they were alone. "Where's everybody else?"
"We're here," said Clay, walking in with John behind him. "Somebody was in such a rush to get here that he ran into two people on the way." He shot an annoyed look at Kyle, who shrugged.
"Accidentally. Besides, only two's a record for me," he said defensively. Clay's irritated expression did not soften. "I'm sorry. I was anxious to see how he was."
Clay sighed. "Well, be a little more careful next time. I had to pull some strings to get us to stay as long as we did yesterday and they don't appreciate recklessness in the halls."
John approached the bed. "How're you feeling today, Sammy?"
Sam opened his mouth, about to say the typical answer of "Fine," but something stopped him. He thought back to seeing his father, sister, and aunt, an event that seemed so real, but could easily have been nothing more than a dream or hallucination given the circumstances. Should I tell him? Should I tell the rest of them? What would they say?
"I'm okay," he finally said. "I'm feeling better. Really."
John frowned. "You sure? You look like you didn't sleep that well."
"Yeah, I…" He hesitated. He could still clearly see his sister's smiling face, the way her cheeks expanded when she did so and her eyes lit up in pure joy at seeing her brother alive and well. He wondered if he looked the same to her, if any of it was even real. "I think I'm okay."
John frowned. Sam was about to continue when a new figure walked in. She was wearing a turquoise blouse with a matching skirt and a face bubbling with glee. As soon as she saw Sam in the bed, she broke into one of the biggest smiles he'd ever seen. John saw her and stepped back.
With a loud squeal of delight, she ran forward and threw herself upon Sam, wrapping him in a strong hug. Sam looked around at the others horrified. John and Clay were smirking while Kyle was trying his best to avoid doubling over in laughter. Clay stepped forward and gave the woman a tap on the shoulder.
"Easy, Marla. He's still healing, you know."
"Oh, right!" she said, releasing her vice-like grip on him. He fought the urge to cough, not wanting to seem rude. "I'm sorry, but I've been looking forward to this all week, ever since I got the call from Clay. It's so good to see you!"
Despite his initial concerns, Sam couldn't help but smile. Obviously, this was another one of Charlie's friends, and a very energetic one at that. Just by looking at her, he could feel her happiness and enthusiasm oozing off of her like a contagious virus.
"H-hi," he said nervously, completely unsure of what to say.
"Hello!" she said, beaming. "You look tired. Did you just wake up? I'm Marla, by the way."
"Sam."
"Yes, I've heard! I got in late last night and met your mom. Jessica's told me so much about you!"
With the mention of her name, Sam looked around and suddenly noticed that Jessica was absent. "Where is Jessica?"
"I'm here," she said, walking in as she and Hannah were helping Carlton.
"Really, I'm okay!" he protested. "We're here now, anyway."
"Yeah, well, you still technically shouldn't be out and about too much," said Jessica.
"Ok, Mom," said Carlton, turning to Sam. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm okay," he said.
"You look like you didn't sleep well," said Hannah. She placed her hand to his forehead to feel for a fever. "You seem better, though."
"He looks hot," said Marla, examining him as well.
"It's April in Utah," said Sam. "I'm still not used to the heat."
"Are you sure?" his mother asked.
Sam paused again. The look in her eyes was troubling. He knew from the years growing up that he wouldn't be able to get away with dodging her suspicions much longer.
"Well, actually...I think I saw Charlie last night."
The room went dead silent. Kyle and Carlton had been chatting about something in the background. They both went silent at the mention of her. Everyone was staring at him wide-eyed.
"You what?" asked Jessica.
"I don't know. It was late in the night, it was dark. I was dreaming about Fredbear's and then I was woken up for some reason...or at least I think I was. It was a blur. I can't even remember everything that happened, but...I saw Charlie. She was standing right there." He pointed to where John was near his bed.
"You saw her?" asked Kyle, convinced he wasn't hearing correctly. "She was actually standing here?"
"I think so." Sam turned to his mother. "I saw Dad, too."
Hannah's mouth hung open slightly. She looked like she was going to say something, but she remained silent and kept her eyes locked on her son.
"What did he say?" she said, her voice turning cold.
"He said that he's sorry...for everything." Sam blushed in embarrassment as he felt the words leave his lips. Is that really the best way to say it? That he's sorry for everything? Words couldn't describe the emotions that had flowed. The only way to understand was to actually be there.
She watched her son for a few moments. As he looked into his mother's eyes, Sam was certain he saw a glimmer of hope trying to peek through mountains of doubt.
"And Charlie?" Jessica asked.
"She's okay," said Sam, trying his best to sound certain. He hated that his post-trauma injuries were hindering his credibility, even to himself. He still couldn't tell if it was even real, or if he even wanted it to be. Would he rather believe that she was okay but separated or that it was a residual hallucination which meant that her whereabouts were still a mystery?
The concerned and anxious faces around him made him realize that he had zoned out again.
"She said that she's with my dad, now. You know…" He looked up at the ceiling. "She's at peace, happy to finally be real and not a robot anymore, and that we'll all see her again...someday."
No one said a word. The only noise in the room was the faint humming of the air conditioning unit near the window and Marla's breathing. Jessica and Clay exchanged questioning glances. Kyle stared at his friend with eyebrows raised. Carlton was looking out the window up at the sky as though he might see Charlie there.
"And you're sure you saw her?" said Clay finally.
Sam scoffed. "I think so."
"What did she look like?" John asked.
Sam turned to him. "Just like you described. Warm, smiling, glowing."
John said nothing, though his mouth was hinged open slightly. His eyes were wide in disbelief. Jessica kept looking back and forth between them, completely flabbergasted, waiting for someone to confirm the reality.
"Sammy, are you sure you weren't just dreaming?" Hannah asked her son.
"I...I don't know," said Sam. He rubbed his head, massaging his temple. "It was late, and I remember drifting off to sleep again right after."
"Sam, your brain's been through a lot," said Clay calmly. "As much as we would like for it to be true, I don't think we can validate anything just based on that."
Sam nodded. "Yeah, I know." He looked at John, who was still staring at him wordlessly. There was a look in his eyes that Sam couldn't quite discern. Was it doubt or belief?
"So, what's going on here, anyway?" Sam asked, looking back around the room.
Clay turned and closed the door. "Well, given the circumstances, I decided to organize a private gathering at the cemetery tomorrow. Just for us, so that we may officially say goodbye to Charlie."
Marla let out a choked, desperate sound. The look on her face clearly gave away the fact that she was still struggling to accept the news about Charlie. Jessica gave a nervous look to Clay. Sam could only imagine how the conversation with Marla went.
"Well," said Marla. "I, for one, am not at all happy that I came back to such sad circumstances, but I guess there's no denying at this point that Charlie's really not coming back, so I guess I'll just have to accept it." Her voice began to break during the final words.
"Did Jason come with you?" Jessica asked.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, he did," said Marla. "I wasn't sure about bringing him at first, but he insisted that he come along."
"Really?" said Carlton, amazed. "I would've thought that seeing someone be dragged away by a giant rabbit would've been enough to keep me away for good."
"Yeah, I thought so, too," said Marla, "but he insisted. It took some arguing, but I finally convinced my mom that it was important enough for both of us. He's in the car now. He doesn't really like hospitals that much."
"I don't blame him," said Jessica. "I mean, look at us. We've spent more time in hospitals lately than we ever have before. It's always bad news, not that it wasn't already bad news to be in a hospital anyway, but you know…"
John and Marla nodded in agreement.
"Well Sam, I ran into your doctor on the way up," Clay announced with a smile. "Good news: you'll be able to leave sometime later today. They just need to run a few more tests to make sure that you're healing properly, which it looks like you are."
Sam glanced down at his own body. He was right. The exhaustion and overall achiness he'd felt last night seemed to be leaving quickly. He felt stronger than he had in quite a while, right before his near-death encounter with the tree that destroyed Charlie's car.
Her car.
He remembered that fateful moment when he nearly killed himself. He'd been traveling in what he was certain was the direction of Henry's old house only to later discover just how wrong he was. In a flash of lightning, his world was turned upside down and he crashed what once was Charlie's car into a tree, dangerously close to Fazbear's Fright. He briefly wondered whether or not Charlie knew about her car. She probably wouldn't care at this point, as long as he was okay, but he still couldn't help but wonder. He felt the shame of leaving everyone behind the way he did rising up within him again, but he pushed it out. No, he told himself firmly. Not right now.
"Oh, and by the way," said Kyle, holding something in his hand. Sam was pulled once more from his thoughts. It was his journal. "I forgot to mention that we found this in Charlie's car." Kyle placed it on the table near the bed.
Sam blinked in amazement. In all of the confusion, he'd also completely forgotten about the notebook in which he'd always written down his thoughts. He looked up and gave his friend a questioning look. Kyle grinned.
"Don't worry. I didn't read any of it. I know how much you value your privacy."
Sam nodded, taking the small notebook in his hand. "Thanks."
"Well..." Clay went on, but he was interrupted by footsteps approaching the room outside. A few seconds later, a young man, early teens, appeared in the doorway. He was dressed in a black shirt and brown shorts. His face was round and his hair was long enough to nearly cover an eye. Marla stared at him, eyes wide in shock and anger.
"I thought you were waiting in the car?!" she said.
"I got bored," he replied, entering the room. "I may not like hospitals, but at least they aren't a million degrees."
Marla rolled her eyes and turned back to Sam. "This is Jason, my half brother," she said, gesturing to the new face.
"Remember us?" asked Carlton with a smile. Jason feigned an insulted face.
"How can I possibly forget?" he said.
"I wasn't sure about bringing him along," said Marla guiltily. "When I informed my mother that I was coming back, Jason overheard and said he wanted to come along, too."
"'Cause I wanted to come! I liked Charlie. She was nice. Besides, I was there, too!"
"Well, even without telling her the full story of what happened, Mom was still pretty nervous after we came home last time," Marla told him. "She didn't even want me coming back last month, either."
"I'm not a little kid!" Jason protested. "I'm thirteen. I'm practically a man, now!" He puffed out his chest.
"Sure you are," said Marla, rolling her eyes.
"Hey, big guy," said John with a small smirk. "This is Charlie's brother, Sam."
"What happened to your arm?" asked Jason as he shook Sam's right hand.
"I, uh, got into a little accident," said Sam, shrugging as if to say it happens. Jason kept staring at him, obviously wanting him to go on. Sam couldn't help but wince a little bit. It reminded him of some of Kyle's probings for more information.
"He's been through a rough time," said John, "trying to find Charlie and all."
"Where is Charlie?" Jason asked, looking around. The others all exchanged nervous glances. Marla hadn't broken the news to him yet.
"I'll tell you in a bit, assuming you can keep a secret," said Marla in a dangerously low voice. Jason looked up at his sister as though she were psychotic.
Before anyone could say anything else, the doctor entered the room.
"Oh, I see someone's well-liked," he said, squeezing his way through all of the guests over to Sam's bed. "Well, son, I don't know if the chief informed you yet, but I think you're ready to go home soon."
"Thank goodness," said Hannah. "How long until he fully recovers?"
"At this rate, I'd say a week. Nothing too extraneous in the meantime," he told Sam while writing something on his clipboard. "I see you already have your clothes here," he added, noticing the pile nearby. "We just have to run a few more tests, and you'll be good to go!"
"Great. Thanks, doc," said Clay, clearing his throat and gesturing the others out. "We'll see you in a bit, Sam." One-by-one, they filed out of the room, with Jason whispering something to his sister. His mother gave him a smile as she left, leaving Sam staring out the window at the bright golden sky topping the mountains in the distance.
April 17, 1999
My head hurts. My body hurts. My arm hurts.
It's been almost eight hours since I left the hospital, and I can't stop thinking about Charlie and Dad, what they said to me, and more importantly, if it was even real. It seemed so real. It felt real, too.
We're going to see the graves again tomorrow. I'm not sure how I feel about that yet. I know we have to do something to say goodbye, but I don't want to lose myself again. I'm worried that seeing those tombstones again might restart this whole process. After all, my descent into madness didn't start in that cursed building, it started there in the cemetery. Is that what depression is? Being thrown through a vicious, unending cycle that always ends with you thinking that you've found the way out only to have it be false hope? If that's the case, I can see why some people hate hope. Still...what if there's more to it?
I also can't stop thinking about what happened to me. I've always done my best to be someone reliable and level-headed; you'd have to be when you're friends with someone like Kyle Jackson. Now, I'm looking back to what Mom said about anger. Granted, she should know because she's seen it before. How could I have lost myself so easily like that? I know it's wrong, but at the time, it just felt so right. Poor Kyle. Looks like I'm really the one unworthy of our friendship after that hit I gave him. I still can't believe that Kyle saved me after I thought I was done for. That final hallucination of him looked so real I was sure I was as good as dead. Nightmare really did a number on me that night.
And that's what still terrifies me the most after all of this: Nightmare. Is it really true that Nightmare is a part of me? I hope not. Maybe it was just the emotions getting the better of me, taking over my sanity. Still, I did start seeing Nightmare long before finding that place. For as long as I live, I will never forget that face. In fact, I'm nervous about sleeping in that guest bed again tonight. That's when I first saw Nightmare in my dreams. The silhouette behind Afton in the suit...I'll never forget that vision.
William Afton: although I've never met him in person...at least not recently...I'm not sure I see him in the same light anymore, either. He looked so happy, so peaceful, so content in that old picture with his wife. He could've been a great man who did many great things had it not been for his loss. That's the most amazing part of all of this. What happened to Afton could've happened to any of us, and for some of us, it did. I think we've been looking at Afton all wrong. He wasn't just born a murderous lunatic, he only became one when he lost something dear to him. And Dad...I saw his own anguish first-hand. They both died, one saved by a stroke of grace in a last-minute return to sanity, the other facing a fiery death. As for me? I don't know how I was fortunate enough to find someone to call my best friend who would go to such great lengths to save me. I'm still here because of the courage and loyalty of Kyle Jackson.
It's certainly been a long, emotional week. I don't know how long it'll take me to recover from this, if I ever do, but I guess all I can do is hope. Hope and move on living life as I should be like Dad said. I want to make him proud, to show him that his son, Sam Emily, will carry on his loving personality and artistic legacy and in any way that he can, wherever my road may lead. I don't know how painful it'll be along the way, but I have to try.
I have to move on.
The Following Day...
Sam carefully stepped out of the back seat of Clay's car, trying his best to prevent his arm's sling from catching on the door. Kyle was right behind him, guiding him slowly onto the curb. Clay extended a hand to Hannah to help her out of the passenger seat.
"Well," said Clay. "Here we are once again." He glanced at the clouds. "I was hoping it would be brighter today, but unfortunately, April has the tendency to do that. It's not supposed to rain, though." He turned to Sam and Hannah. "Are you guys okay?"
They both nodded.
"It feels weird being back here," said Kyle. "You know, 'cause last time we were here-" He glanced nervously at Sam, who only looked back at him with a neutral face. It wasn't as bad as his warning face, but still enough to leave an impression. "Well, it's just strange to be back here again. That's all. So, are they coming?"
"Yes. They'll be right along," said Clay, glancing at his watch. Earlier that morning, he had brought the three of them along to the station so that they could answer a few more questions to help officially close the case on Charlie and testify to the recent events. Now they were waiting for the others to meet them.
"Sam? Are you okay, hon?" Hannah asked.
Sam blinked and looked up. He realized that he'd been staring absent-mindedly at the ground. His mind was in a complete fog. He was still trying to make sense of everything that had happened recently. Although he tried desperately to tell himself that nothing in that cursed building was real, he still couldn't help but feel that dark presence looming over him, that dark smiling face and those intimidating bright eyes that could see right through his every attempt to defend himself. And that laugh. He still could hear it in his head. Ever since he first woke up in the hospital, he'd been afraid of being alone simply because of the silence. He feared that the silence would be an open door for that voice to come back.
Nightmare.
Was it true? Was Nightmare really a part of him? Why did it only emerge now after all of these years? According to John, the building had been designed to specifically do that: personify and make real their fears and blur the line between what was real and what wasn't. Still, it unnerved him to think that the voice he'd been arguing with prior to those experiences, the one he'd assumed had been his own subconscious, may have actually been Nightmare all along.
No, he told himself. Nightmare's gone. It's over. Even if it's true that he...or it...is a part of me, it was only that building that made it so real. I just need to move on. Besides, Nightmare was wrong about Kyle abandoning me. It was all a lie.
"Yeah," he finally said. "I'm okay. Just...tired."
It was true. He wasn't sure how much was caused by the near-death experience from the smoke and how much the mind games took a toll on his body, but he certainly was tired. He'd probably have to take a good week off from work and band rehearsals when he got home.
Home. It seemed like so long ago now that he'd been home. For a brief moment, he'd completely forgotten where he even lived. With everything that had happened since he'd arrived, he'd very quickly become accustomed to Hurricane and the people here.
They're my friends, now, too, he thought. They're not just Charlie's friends, anymore. They're mine now as well.
He looked up at Clay, who was talking with his mother about something that he wasn't paying attention to. He remembered when Clay first knocked on their apartment door out of the blue six days ago (or maybe it was seven; time had become a blur). At that point, Clay was the sole link to his childhood world apart from his mother, a link that would soon connect with the others: Carlton, John, and especially Jessica. Despite being a complete stranger to them all, he'd been accepted by them gladly. He remembered the ride over to Fredbear's with John, the one whom his sister had been the closest to. He remembered Jessica showing him around town and opening herself up to him. It had been only days since they had met, and yet his heart began to ache at the thought of leaving them in only a few short hours. Granted, he still had Kyle, and hopefully always would, but he still couldn't help but feel like there would always be something missing without the others.
And then there was his sister. His mind flashed back to her words from the hospital, words that he still couldn't distinguish as being a real glimmer of hope or the vain words of a dream:
"I've never felt more alive, more happy, than I am now."
A small tear began to fall from his eye. After everything, she was still gone. His sister, the one whom he'd come here and then found himself trapped in a hellhouse to try to find, was officially gone. There was no denying it. Charlie really was gone, and no amount of wishing she was still here was going to change that fact.
The sound of tires pulled him from his thoughts. Two more cars had pulled up: John and Carlton stepped out of one, both wearing dress shirts and khakis, and Jessica, Marla, and Jason from the other. Jason was wearing a plain white shirt and jeans while the girls both had on dresses. Marla was carrying a bouquet of flowers, and John had in his arms a small metal box. They all gathered in the middle.
"Sorry we're late," said Marla. "Somebody was still sleeping when I got out of my shower."
Jason shrugged. "Clay has a comfy couch."
Marla glared at him.
"Anyway," said Clay, clearly hoping to avoid any drama. "The important thing is we're all here to share this moment together. Well...at least most of us."
"Most of us?" Jessica repeated, stunned. "What do you mean? Who else is coming?"
"Well, Jessica, when you made your call to Marla, I made a little long-distance call of my own. Another one of my leaps of faith." He gave Hannah a small smile before turning to the road. "Ah, here he is now. Wasn't sure he'd make it on time."
A fourth car pulled up. It was another police car. Jessica and John exchanged confused looks. Marla frowned.
"Who is that?"
"You'll see…" said Clay, beaming. The driver stepped out of the car in uniform. "I had one of my officers pick him up."
"Pick him up?" said Jessica.
Out of the passenger side door stepped a young man, elegant, dark skin, wearing the same exact suit he wore for Michael Brooks' scholarship memorial.
"L-Lamar?" Jessica stood there, stunned.
Marla immediately ran toward him and wrapped her arms around him in an embrace. He chuckled and patted her back.
"Hello to you, too," he said in his usual, good-mannered voice. They rejoined the others. "Am I late?"
"Not at all," said Clay.
"Good," said Lamar, looking around at the familiar faces, one of which stuck out to him immediately.
"Hey, Jessica. How are you?"
Jessica didn't realize that her bewilderment was apparently etched on her face plain as day.
"I'm fine...better now. Whatever happened to never, ever, ever setting foot in this town again for as long as you live?" she asked with a smile.*
Lamar shrugged. "For Charlie...I can make an exception."
Jessica shook her head in disbelief as she, too, walked over to give him a hug.
"Hey, Carlton. Still sitting on your throne as the king prankster?" he asked.
"Nah. Not so much lately," said Carlton. "Still healing, but I'm better."
"Good to hear," said Lamar, turning to John. "How are you, John?"
John shrugged. "I could be better."
"Hey, it could be worse," said Lamar seriously, maintaining close eye contact. "At least we're all here now."
"Yeah," said John. "Almost all of us."
Lamar nodded and finally made his way over to Sam.
"You must be Sam," he said in a very business-like manner. Sam nodded, unsure of what to say. He'd heard the others mention Lamar, but he didn't think that he would be so...sophisticated, being dressed in a fine suit like that. It almost made Sam feel ashamed to be wearing nothing but the clothes that his mother brought for him to the hospital.
Lamar extended his hand and they shook. "It's good to meet you."
"Yeah," said Sam. "Same."
Lamar exchanged introductions with Kyle and even gave Hannah a small hug and condolences, both of which she accepted.
"Are we ready?" asked Clay.
They all nodded...everyone except Sam. They glanced at him, and when he met their gaze, he nodded, too.
"Yeah, let's go."
A small breeze blew down through the trees as they entered the cemetery. Jessica shivered and covered herself. Kyle offered her his jacket, being more used to chilly weather, but she declined.
"Why is it just us?" Jason asked as they walked. "Why aren't we doing this with more people?"
"Because," Marla responded, shooting him an annoyed look, "this doesn't involve anyone else. People in this town still think her dad was crazy. They don't need to know about this. We're Charlie's closest friends, so this is just between all of us. Understand?"
"But-" Jason protested, earning him the most solemn look he'd ever seen in his half sister's eyes.
"Jason, I'm deadly serious. Keep this to yourself. Understand?"
He didn't say anything. He looked back at her, dumbfounded for a few moments. He turned to the others, some of whom had noticed the commotion. He met Lamar's gaze. Lamar gave him a nod.
"Okay," said Jason. "I won't tell anyone else."
Marla raised an eyebrow.
"No, I'm serious! I won't say anything. I promise!"
Marla nodded and urged him on.
After a few more minutes, they finally reached the pair of tombstones they'd been looking for. The one had Henry's name on it and the other had Charlie's. They all stopped about ten feet away, afraid to get too close.
Finally, Jessica stepped forward. She approached Charlie's tombstone and rested her hand on it, unsure of what to say. What can I even say? There's so much I still don't even understand!
"Charlie…" she said in a choked voice, turning to face the group. "Charlie was a very dear friend of us all...or at least most of us." She gave a quick nod to Kyle. "I know I'm nothing special amongst us, but as her former roommate, I think I can honestly say that I've seen many more mysteries of the endless sea of clothes and spare robotic parts than any of you can possibly imagine!"
They all chuckled, though John's laugh sounded somewhat forced. Jessica cleared her throat, the momentary humor on her face fading away once again.
"No, Charlie was much more than a friend, she was like a sister to me, a much messier, mysterious, and loving sister whom I always admired for stopping and taking the time to think about the world. Like the rest of us, I'd give anything to see her again now, but I know she's truly in a better place now, and should I ever forget that, I'm hoping her brother will always be there to remind me." She locked eyes with Sam and gave a weak smile. With an increasing heart rate, he felt himself return the gesture.
Marla walked up next and placed the bouquet of flowers near the grave. She didn't say much. Sam could tell that she wanted to say more but was fighting back tears. She talked about how she and Charlie kept in touch often while they were apart over the years, and about the visit she made to see Charlie when they were twelve. After struggling through her final moments with Charlie in John's bedroom that day, she joined the rest of the group. Carlton came next. He talked about how clever Charlie was, how grateful he was for her saving him from that suit he'd spent hours being trapped in, unsure of whether or not he was going to die. He shared a few childhood memories they'd spent together with Michael. When Lamar stepped up, he mentioned how he and Charlie had a small heart-to-heart before they parted ways after the night at Freddy's. He'd admitted to her that he was a little nervous about going back home, returning to his normal life and then going to college. After everything that had happened, he wasn't sure how well he'd be able to adapt back into regular life, if he would at all. Charlie had reminded him of how brave he always was as a child, and how she had looked up to him for his fearlessness, like the time in kindergarten when she thought the cafeteria's heating duct had a monster inside it and he offered to charge in and slay it for her, which ended with a playful fight with John over who would be the one to fight for her honor. He ended with a remorseful statement about not being here during her final moments, but that he wished her the best.
All eyes turned to Sam. He met their gaze nervously and slowly walked up to the grave. He placed a hand on the tombstone. It was surprisingly warm given the weather. Perhaps it was the heat from Jessica's hands earlier. When he looked down at the grave, he froze. His sister's name was still clearly etched in the stone, solidified by time. He ran his fingers across the letters just to make sure that they were real. The last time he was here, he would've given anything in the world to know that it wasn't real, that the grave nor the letters on it were just figments of his imagination. But now, all of that had changed. As his fingers glazed over the letters once more, he felt a strange sense of comfort encompass him.
He heard a small cough behind him, reminding him that he wasn't alone. He turned away from the stone and met the nine pairs of eyes that were fixated on him. He had to tell them, one way or another.
"I've never spoken at a funeral before," he admitted, "and it's been so long since I'd seen her, so I'm not sure of what to say, exactly." He glanced at John, who gave a small nod of encouragement. "Charlie was my sister, and still is. And the more I think about it...the more I realize just how good it is that she's gone."
He saw the confused looks on some of their faces.
"I miss her," he said. "I know we all do, but whether or not what the vision that I saw the other night was real, I think she was right in what she told me. For most of her life, she's been nothing but a trapped person living an empty, fake life that would have been exposed for what it was eventually anyway."
He looked back at the tombstone. The reality of what he was saying was starting to hit home. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like for her, going through life thinking that everything was normal, being so accustomed to the way things are, when in fact you were, in some ways, less of a person than those around you. He shuddered, imagining what life may have been like had he been the one to be kidnapped and murdered, and then somewhat brought back to life as a robot for many years. How different life would have been. It was a fifty-fifty choice: he could've easily been the one living this pitiful life rather than his sister, and he almost was had it not been for her drawing Afton's attention toward her that night. She'd unknowingly saved him that night, and he had nothing to give back to her other than words of gratitude.
"Charlie may not be with us anymore," said Sam, turning back to the others, "but she's happy. She's in a better place, a place where she can be fully human again, and her memory will live on with us all until we see her again. Most of her life may have been nothing more than a facade, but she didn't live or die in vain. She sacrificed herself to finish what my dad began years ago, and I think she made us all better people, in one way or another."
He wasn't sure if he was even making sense or just babbling. He turned to Jessica and saw her smile with tears pouring down her face. He smiled back.
"I'm not sure what else there is to say," he said nervously, "other than I wish I could've known her in-person as well as you all did. So, I guess I'll say goodbye…" He gave one last, longing look at the tombstone. "...until we meet again."
He walked back over to the others. Kyle patted his shoulder. There was a hanging silence as Sam's words slowly sank in. A crow could be heard cawing nearby, the only break in the silence.
Finally, John handed Clay the box and stepped forward, closing the gap between himself and the stone. He stared at it longingly for a few silent minutes and then spoke.
"I have no idea where to begin," he said, turning to the rest of them. "Charlie was so much more than a friend to me, she was a partner. We shared a deep connection that I still can't fully understand. Even when we were in kindergarten together, I knew there was something different about her. Something that couldn't be explained. Of course, looking back on it now, I understand what it was." He swallowed hard, his nerves going haywire. "I loved her."
He stood there silently for a moment, letting it soak in. It wasn't a huge surprise to any of them at that point, especially not to Jessica or Carlton. Lamar nodded grimly, and Marla turned and began to cry into the shoulder of Jessica, who also looked very solemn. Even Jason had an uncomfortable look on his face. He remembered the playful banter between the two of them, not that he cared much at the time, but now, even he couldn't help but feel the weight of the loss.
Clay cleared his throat. "Shall we do this, John?"
John nodded and Clay stepped forward, handing him back the small box.
"I also have one final confession to make," said John anxiously. "The day I...burned what remained of her...you know, corpse...there was actually a part of her...or it...that didn't quite burn completely."
He reached into the box and pulled out a small object. Marla cried out in disbelief. In his hand was a fragment of a ceramic-type metal. Its smooth metal was charred black, though it was still recognizable to be part of a face. As Sam studied it, he saw the clear remnants of a cheek, half of a nose bridge, and a curved edge which signified where an eye had been.
"John?" asked Jessica timidly. "Is that really-?"
"Yes," said John. "It's what's left of her body."
All eyes were locked onto the metal plate as he walked over to the tombstone. He held up the piece and gave one last longing look at it before putting it back into the box. He pulled out a small metal can and opened it, turning it over and pouring out the contents into the box. The smell of gas was unmistakable.
"What's he doing?" Jessica whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear.
"Something that needs to be done," said Clay, giving a concerned glance at Hannah, who was fixated on John with tears pouring down her face.
John pulled out a match and lit it in a few tries. After a brief pause, he dropped it into the box. Immediately, the flames roared to life as John stepped back to join the others in drinking in the scene before them. The smoke was thick and black as the metallic elements surrendered themselves to the heat, vaporizing into the air. Marla resumed sobbing into Jessica's shoulder. Carlton decided after a few moments that he couldn't watch anymore and looked over to a nearby tombstone instead: Micheal Brooks. John and Sam stood side-by-side, their vision locked on the scene as the fire finally began to die down, and the smoke thinned. Sam let out a deep sigh as a strange sense of peace washed over him, working its way throughout his taxed body, while the clouds finally gave way and a stream of sunlight encompassed the town.
The diner was unusually loud. There were more children here than normal, talking and shouting excitedly about whatever it was that was on their adventurous mind. Yet, for the nine of them sitting at the large table in the corner, there was silence. The emotions from the cemetery still lingered, and no one knew how to break the ice. Jessica was staring out the window at the sunlight that was now pouring down. John's thoughtful gaze was fixated on the table. Carlton glanced around at the others, unsure of whether or not to speak, or what he would say. Nothing came to mind. Even Jason was quiet, which Marla found to be quite unusual as she continued battling back her own grief.
Finally, Kyle cleared his throat.
"So, John," he asked. "What's next for you, then?"
"I don't know," said John. "I guess I'll keep looking for work. I pretty much spent the rest of my money this last month trying to figure everything out."
"You can stay with us for the time being," said Clay. "I'm sure Carlton will enjoy the company."
"You bet," said Carlton, beaming at John. John smiled.
"Well, I have something in mind you might be interested in. There's a place back in Chicago that's looking for some writers, if you're interested, of course," Kyle offered. "My mom's friends with the owner. They're some kind of support group for people who are struggling to cope with things, and they've just recently announced that they're hiring writers because apparently some of their clients find literature healing or something. Honestly, it sounds like a pretty good gig. I'd do it myself, only I can't really write that well."
"Kyle, I think it's a little too early for any of us to make any big decisions just yet," said Clay.
Kyle nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry. I just thought of it and wanted to mention it before I forgot."
John raised his eyebrows. He was tempted to immediately decline. After all, Hurricane was where he always felt like he belonged. It was where he spent his childhood, where he, Charlie, and the others had their recent adventures, and where Charlie's resting place was. However, as he pondered it further, it also occurred to him that he probably wouldn't stand too strong a chance of getting another job in the area given the unreliable reputation he'd given himself. There was also the issue of his own sanity. He wasn't stupid; he knew deep down that his obsession with this town, specifically the memories, wasn't good for him. As painful as it would be to say goodbye to his childhood memories, it was probably the right thing to do. William Afton was gone for good, but so was Charlie, judging by Sam's hospital story. The only future that this town held for him now was an empty and miserable one staring at a tombstone.
He looked up at Kyle and nodded. "I'll think about it."
"Cool," said Kyle. "Well, let me know if you're interested."
"So, Lamar," said Carlton. "How's New Jersey been treating you?"
"Well enough," said Lamar. "School's been okay. Classes, studying, not much to tell."
"How's the dating life?" Marla teased.
"What dating life?" Lamar said with a wink. Marla giggled.
"Well, thank you both for coming," said Clay, his voice heavy. "I know it would've meant the world to her."
"How could we not?" said Marla, the sadness from the cemetery returning. "I mean, Charlie's our friend."
Clay smiled. "How long were you planning on staying, Lamar?"
"The night," he said. "I wish I could stay longer. It really is nice seeing you all again. Deep down, I needed it. But I really need to get back tomorrow."
"I'll arrange for one of my officers to take you back to the airport, then," said Clay sadly. "It's good to see you again, Lamar."
There was a murmur of agreement amongst the others. Jason nodded.
"Well, in a strange way, it's good to be back. I'm sorry again about not being here last month. If I'd known that was my last chance to see her, I…"
"None of us knew at the time," said Jessica. "It's okay, Lamar. I know she'd be happy that you're here now."
"What about you, Marla? How's school?" asked Clay.
"Fine. One of my professors has recommended me for the accelerated program. I'll be starting an internship this summer."
"Really? That's great!" exclaimed Jessica.
"Yeah, congrats, Marla!" said Carlton.
"Thanks. Just doing my best," she said, turning to Sam. "How about you, Sam? How's life for you back home?"
Sam's mind was still swimming in the vision of the burning face that he almost didn't register the question.
"Fine enough so far, I guess," he said. "Just working and playing in our free time."
"What kind of stuff do you play?" asked Lamar.
Sam shrugged. "Lots of stuff. Right now, we're just a cover band, so we try to do a little bit of everything."
"Do you write?" asked Marla.
Sam paused. With how occupied his mind was about Charlie recently, he'd forgotten about life back home, his empty life of work, and playing gigs with no material of their own. All he had was the song about Cyndi, which he had no interest in anymore. Could he perhaps use some of the recent events as a new, stronger source of inspiration?
"A little bit. Nothing noteworthy though...yet."
There was a murmur of interest, but he'd stopped paying attention. He felt Kyle's hand pat his shoulder as he continued to nibble on the sandwich he'd ordered.
Within a half an hour, they were all back at the Burkes' saying goodbye to the trio. Hannah thanked Carlton for their talk. Kyle was saying goodbye to John and Lamar while giving Jason a few tips on how to get a date, telling him to make sure she doesn't already have a boyfriend who's standing right there and also struggles with anger management.
Jessica practically threw herself upon Sam, squeezing him even tighter than the night they met at Carlton's house. He smiled and hugged her back, breathing in the sweet aroma of her shampoo. It smelled very pleasant...and almost tropical. He remembered seeing an Ocean Breeze shampoo in Carlton's bathroom. He wondered if Jessica used it at all.
"I'm gonna miss you," she said.
"Me, too," he said honestly. He noticed that there were tears in her eyes. "Are you okay?"
"I'm not sure," she said, "but I think so. It's just been a long, confusing two years for me, you know? And to lose Charlie like this..." Her voice started to break.
"We'll get through this," he told her, placing a hand on her shoulder. The confidence in his voice surprised him, but deep down, he knew it to be true, or at least he hoped. "I know we will. And if any of us are going to be the one to help pull others through, it's you. You're a strong woman."
She smiled and wrapped her arms around his head. "And don't you ever forget it," she said playfully. He laughed, and before he could say anything in return, she leaned forward and planted a solid kiss on his cheek. His eyes went wide. He remembered the first time Cyndi had kissed him like that. He remembered how he thought he'd scored big. Being a young, naive teenager at the time who thought he'd found love, his excitement and stomach butterflies had trumped nearly all of his common sense, leading to a rushed and shallow relationship and all of the heartache that came with it. But this was different. As his heart pounded with joy in his chest, he felt a strange feeling of comfort envelop him. Jessica wasn't Cyndi. She was Jessica, someone who actually cared about him rather than what he may or may not be in the future. He admired her courage and her determination to do what was right. In the short time they'd known each other, they'd opened up to each other about so many personal memories. He trusted her, and he could tell by the way she looked at him that she felt the same.
"Sorry," he said apologetically as he noticed the confused look in her eyes. "I'm...not sure what to say."
"It's okay," she said, wrapping him in another tight embrace. "Stay safe."
He smiled. "You, too."
"You'll come and visit us, won't you?" Carlton asked optimistically as they broke apart.
Sam looked to his mother, who sighed.
"I don't see myself coming back here again," she said, "but Sam's an adult. He can make his own decisions."
"I'll see what I can do," said Sam, turning to Clay. "I'm not sure how often."
"I'll let you know when we're having our next little get-together," said Clay with a smile. Sam returned it. He couldn't wait.
"You're welcome to come along, too, Kyle," Clay said.
"Alright!" Kyle exclaimed with excitement. "I gotta say, I didn't think I'd grow so attached to a town like this, but I'm up for it. Besides, Carlton and I still have to finish that movie."
"It's really nothing too special," Carlton laughed. "Spoilers, one of them dies."
"I wish you guys could stay longer," said Marla.
"Me, too," said Sam truthfully, "but life calls, you know?"
"You might see me again," said Lamar. "I was gonna visit my dad this summer. He lives in the Chicago area. I'll see if I can look you up."
Sam nodded and turned to John.
"John," he said solemnly, leaning in. "Charlie wanted me to tell you something: she loves you, too."
John's eyes widened. His mouth hung open, twitching slightly. After a few seconds, he closed it and nodded, extending a hand. Sam grabbed it and pulled him into a hug.
"Thanks for everything, John," he said. "Thanks for being there for her."
John chuckled. "It was entirely my pleasure." They broke apart. "Will you be okay, though?"
"Yeah, I think so," said Sam. John smiled.
"Well, we'd best be going," said Hannah. "Our flight leaves in an hour."
With one final goodbye, Clay led the three of them into the car. Hannah rode with Clay up front while Sam and Kyle sat in the back.
"It feels so weird going home," said Kyle. "So much has happened since we came that part of me is really gonna miss the excitement."
Sam grunted in agreement. He was only half-listening. His mind was still swimming with vague thoughts and lost feelings that had begun to surface. Although his body was already healing at a good pace, his mind was still struggling.
"Are you okay?" asked Kyle.
Sam turned away from the scenery. Kyle was looking at him in his usual concerned way, the one that had become much more frequent ever since the recent events had begun the night Clay had shown up in their lives. He turned back to the window and set his gaze upon the midday sun shining down on the beautiful mountain scenery. He looked up and saw a crow flying alongside them for a few moments, cawing happily, before turning and disappearing up into the blue sky. He vaguely remembered that Charlie liked crows, thinking they were funny. His mind suddenly flashed back to a certain detail he'd forgotten about and he slipped his hand into his jacket pocket, looking for something that resembled a pocket watch. He smiled when he felt his fingers curl around the curved metal inside.
"Yeah," he said softly. "I'm okay."
THE END.
REFERENCES:
*The Fourth Closet, p. 26.