No matter how nice things seemed at the end of their journey, Phil and Dan couldn't stay here forever.

It was Wednesday evening in Potter's Splay and an emotional goodbye was being had between the creators and their creations. It had been a difficult time but they had scraped through it, and it had had its highs and lows.

It was best not to focus on the low points (the awkwardness surrounding Summer, the tension of figuring out what Erica had an issue with them for, Granite Falls, the fever, the 'thing' with Dab, and others amongst them), so they didn't. High points included the quality time that Dab had spent with his childminders, the trip to Chez Llama only a few days ago, the masquerade and perhaps even the late nights of conversation between the two creators, shrouded in darkness and silence to be left to reminisce about the little things they'd learned to appreciate whilst being here.

Perhaps it was all a lesson, really, about appreciating what you have in your own life and not trying to swap it for somebody else's. Or maybe that's searching too deep.

In any case, Dan, Phil and the Howlters were all gathered near the back door, still in the warmth of the quirky little house that everybody had come to call a home, whilst the sun set outside.

Phil knelt on the hardwood floor whilst Dab gave him one of the most wholehearted hugs he'd ever had. Dan was stood beside him, having said goodbye to Dab already, and was having a final conversation to Dil and Tabitha about how nice it had been to see them.

They'd all go outside in a minute and wave goodbye one final time, so they were dragging out the very short time they had before then.

"Sorry about what happened, again," Phil whispered to the kid when he let go, with a nervy smile cracked across his pale face, "Don't remember me for that, OK?"

Dab shook his head, confidently. He had better things to remember his babysitters for. He started to step back but was interrupted by a cough from Phil, who raised his eyebrows,

"Excuse me? What do I get?" he hummed, clearly expecting something.

Dab gave him one last brief hug and kissed his cheek. Both Phil and Dan got these on the daily.

Phil gave a laugh,

"Alright, kid," he said, standing up, "I'll miss you."

He stood up in time to hear Dan apologising to the Howlters for whatever trouble they might have been.

"It's me who should be apologising!… really…" Phil started, abruptly. It must have been a strange movement: suddenly springing up from the floor like a startled cat and blurting that out. The Howlter parents looked at him in an odd manner and he hurried to compose himself,

"What I mean is… I'm sorry for what happened here, for what happened in February, and that I haven't really been myself and that you never really got to see the side of me that wasn't a mess. I know you forgive me for that because you guys are all great, but I just wanted to let you know that before Dan and I left. That as well as how thankful I am that you've understood so much about us both," he explained, modestly, and watched the expressions of Tabitha and Dil's faces change from surprise to fondness. They told him there was nothing to worry about (Tabitha specifically told him he was 'a real sweetheart') and both gave him and Dan two final hugs.

It shouldn't have been this emotional, in theory. They weren't real; they were simulations, hence the name 'Sims', but once you get attached to anyone, whether they be 'real' or not, it's hard to let go. It's hard to let go of anything. And the Howlters had been so accommodating; it was impossible not to love them.

"You think everything will be normal from now on, then? Here, I mean," Tabitha asked. This was a good question.

"I don't know," Dan replied, "And if Phil says he does, he doesn't."

"Do you really want it to be normal?" Phil put in, putting his hands behind his back, "I always say, 'normalness leads to sadness'."

"Hmm. Well, you're not wrong," Dan admitted as he cast a glance out of the glass in the door but saw only darkness and a slight glow of the pool lights. He'd miss this place, sure, but there's a place for everything and everyone and he had his place. He took in the momentum conserver one last time, the bunny guitar, Susan 2's fish tank, and Jonathan the Minnow's, too. The porcelain pig, the rooster beside it, the drinks bar, the tea machine and Dab's drawings scattered about the walls. Endearing. But he knew he had even more sentimental things at home. Not least his bed and his laptop.

He put his right arm around his best friend who was always by his side and always would be even back home – of course – and pulled him a good bit closer. He thanked the Howlters one last time for a their hospitality and their friendship, and Phil agreed and Dil and Tabitha said something along the lines of 'we should be thanking you for the experience' but everybody had heard it all before. They were just dragging it out now. No point in staying any longer.

"We should go," Phil swallowed with a tired smile. He was just about ready to crawl into bed with a warm drink and think about his and Dan's journey.

"We should," Dan agreed with him.

Everything past that seemed to go in a blur. They said their very, very last goodbyes, stopped the tears from falling, pushed open the back door, stepped out onto the porch and turned about to see the house for the very final time. Then they waved to their caring 'family' as they closed the door.

Then the creators were left in silence, surrounded by the chill of dusk. A wave of cool air rolled past and they shivered. Leaving felt weird. Staying felt weirder. Arriving had felt weirdest. Going was the most sensible option here, so they went. They wandered to the path in silence, stepped onto it and carried on until they got to the street corner where they could look down Courtyard Lane and see the Pancake residence there as well. Evan would probably be asleep by now, Eliza and Bob maybe watching TV. Funny how even video game simulations went about their lives merrily enough without having to know about what was going on around them.

Phil and Dan supposed the Pancakes, Summer Holiday, Erica Pendleton and anyone else they had met would probably forget about them sooner or later anyway.

Funny.

"Dan," Phil whispered, even though he didn't have to because he was out of earshot, tugging at Dan's sleeve.

"Hmm?" Dan 'answered', looking downwards slightly to him. He figured out what his friend wanted quickly enough, "Alright, c'mere, then," he sighed, but honestly he didn't mind at all as he wrapped his arms around him.

The coolness around them swiftly dissipated with the warmth that they found themselves enveloped in. It needn't be emotional –they were still there, after all; they weren't saying goodbye; they lived with each other – but somehow it was. Dan knew it was because he felt wobbling on his shoulder; the wobbling of someone who didn't know precisely how they were feeling and couldn't explain it if given 5 hours.

"Hey, Dan?" Phil breathed, his voice shaking slightly but still sure of himself with a measure of steadiness that was hard to describe.

"Hmm?"

"Let's not come back."

The Very End.

A/N 1:

"petrichor

ˈpɛtrʌɪkɔː/

noun

a pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather." -from Oxford Dictionaries.

A quote from a song by Tall Ships: "And in this ongoing war
My favourite smell is petrichor
The scent straight after rain
An illusion of beginning again"

A/N 2:

Thanks for sticking with me. I owe you one.
Sincerely,

-Whisker

A/N 3:

I've moved to Archive Of Our Own.
I may occasionally still post the odd little thing here if I come up with anything, but any proper stories will be there if you're still interested.
Ta.

LINKS:

AO3: A_Plastic_Snail
Twitter: i_whisker (TwentyOneCatWhiskers)
Phanart Instagram: twentyonecatwhiskerz (Foivi)