5
The winning team had marched off chanting Duckys name, who had scored the tie-breaking goal. Macky, Ally, Sam and Cayden stayed in the field in disbelief at their loss. The thick rain clouds put them in a dark shadow. Macky was bouncing around the ball and said to Cayden, who lay in the tall grass, "I can't believe you let Ducky steal the ball from you! We were so close!"
"Shut up." Cayden replied, breathing hard.
"All you had to do was pass it to Ally, who was wide open."
"Shut up, Mack."
"You could have at least passed it backward, to give us more time!"
Cayden jumped up and sprinted off after Macky, who proceeded to trip over the ball in his hurry to run away and Cayden tackled him.
Ally sat down next to Sam as they watched the two struggle.
"Sam," she started kindly, but Sam cut her off as though he didn't hear her speak. He spoke slowly, measuring every word.
"Ally. Don't let him give up. Ever. Make him do something with his life, if you can. He's got it in him to change our little dilemma out here."
Ally considered his sudden inspired words in silence. He didn't seem to require a response.
Cayden stood up laughing and helped Macky to his feet, who limped over, cursing Cayden. He fell next to Sam, holding and rubbing his injured leg.
"Christ, Cayden! I can't help it if you play ball like Vicory!"
Sam interrupted Mackys angry muttering, posing a question to Cayden. "Do you remember when you were really little and you broke your leg in this field and you were badmouthing someone?"
"Yeah," Cayden said with a smile, "I believe it was Jesus Christ and everyone related to him?" Macky pulled his pant leg up, not listening to the conversation. His injury was just a bruise now and would soon be completely gone.
"That's the time. You wouldn't shut up."
"Until you started laughing at me."
"You kept screaming about 'why this was happening to you'! Really stupid thing to be yelling about." Sam said indignantly.
"You didn't have to shut me up with a philosophical debate!"
"What'd I say exactly?"
Cayden adopted a Sam-esque voice and said, "'Jesus'? Something tells me he wasn't rooting for your team, Cay."
"At least you stopped wailing."
Cayden rolled his eyes. "It was one of your more distracting exclamation. Why are we talking about this?"
"I dunno. It's just the time I associate with you really being conscience about what was happening to you. You weren't a kid anymore. You thought about that for days."
"Wasn't Macky the one that hurt you then, though?" asked Ally.
"Jerks." Cayden muttered. They all began to make their way back to the town as it began to rain. The other two ran ahead to get out of it. Cayden and Sam walked even slower, they always did.
"I'm going to take a nap," Sam declared once he was satisfactorily soaked to his bones, "No really, Cay," he said when Cayden opened his mouth to object, "I'm tired. And I want to talk to you tonight, when nobody is awake." With a significant glance he went downstairs, shaking his wet, brown hair from his eyes.
Ally saw Sam come down, soaking wet, from outside.
"Sam, what did you do with Cayden?"
"I think he's going to his secret spot that he thinks none of us know about."
"Hm. Maybe I'll go enlighten him."
"I think you should."
Ally made her way past Sam, as she did she laid her hand gently on his arm and gave him a small smile. Then she walked out into the heavy rain.
Cayden would always disappear to his ever-so-well hidden spot almost every time it rained. He found it just after James, Vicorys husband, died when Cayden was eight. People kept asking him what had happened out there with he and his grandfather, to repeat the story over and over, until finally he disappeared.
As everyone would proceed underground when it rained, Cayden would take off onto the church roof. There was a small niche underneath the first tier of roof where he sat. The rain would run off the top tier and fall in front of him and in a good downpour, like this, it created a thick curtain of water that nobody could see through. But Cayden had a habit of taking his shoes off and sticking them under the waterfall in front of him. It was a bit of an odd shock for anyone who spotted the feet lying on top of the old church.
Ally made her way up on the opposite side of the church from where she had spotted the feet and poked her head through the waterfall, drenching her hair. She gave a halfhearted attempt to unplaster it from the side of her face before Cayden turned around and saw her. But he had heard the sound of the rain lessen behind him and turned around quickly.
"Hi," she said as she appraised the area. There were cobwebs above them and the paint of the dirty wall he was leaning on was peeling. It was very dark.
"Charming."
"How did you know-" he started in disbelief.
"Did you really think you could lay your big feet on the roof and nobody would notice? Everybody knows."
Cayden scowled.
"What are you doing?" Ally asked she came to sit next to him.
Cayden didn't answer. Ally couldn't blame him. Stupid question. She always seemed to loose control of what she was saying around Cayden, but he always called her on it, or ignored it.
They were quiet for a long moment. Ally thought about what she wanted to say and what was crossing the line. She needed to comfort Cayden, but she knew she couldn't handle talking directly about Sam. She settled on something that was bothering her.
"I don't think it would be so hard if we just didn't know he had exactly three days left," she said into the silence.
To her surprise, Cayden put his face in his hands and started shaking his head. "What? Cayden, I'm sorry, I'll shut up."
"No. You're right," he spoke through his hands, "It would be hard. It just happens to be even harder because we know he only has a little less than a day left," he removed his hands and looked her square in the face, "He kept it a secret. He had the first pain while we were at Austens."
Ally looked horrorstruck.
"What? Why didn't he say?"
"He didn't want me to know. The rest of the town knows apparently," when Ally was about to argue that point, he added with a slight smile, "Nobody told you because they knew you'd tell me. So, thanks. Too bad you didn't actually find out, though."
Ally crossed her arms, upset, that the entire town thought they could predict her actions, but still she couldn't find it in herself to deny that she wouldn't have told him.
"I can't believe he kept it a secret. You have a right to know."
"And he has a right to keep it a secret." Ally shook her head at his words.
"He has a responsibility to the people who love him-"
"No, Ally," he interrupted quietly and clearly, "He has a responsibility to himself, to make this as easy for himself as it can possibly be."
Ally sighed skeptically.
"Why don't you put your feet in the water?" he said in an offhand voice, though honestly curious, but he was trying changing the subject.
She pulled her knees closer in response, not really listening.
Less than a day left.
She laid her head on Caydens shoulder. It took the feel of his shoulder against her temple to make her realize she was shaking her head disgustedly.
"It's not right, Cayden. This shouldn't be our life. It shouldn't be anyone's."
Cayden put his hand on her cheek to still her head. Again, it took his touch to make her realize there were tears of injustice running down her cheeks.
She breathed deeply for a minute. Cayden didn't need to see this. The tears slowed.
They sat and watched the rain as Allys breathing slowed. She looked up at Cayden, this wasn't why she came up here.
"I came up here to comfort you."
"Of course you did." He said gently, "Are you telling me I'm being comforting?"
"There's a first."
They were quiet, listening to the rain for hours.
Cayden was warring with himself about whether or not to wake Ally up or carry her in. He tentatively cleared his throat and readjusted his shoulder, seeing if she'd wake. She didn't. As long as she didn't wake up midway there, he might be able to get away with carrying her. She'd never know. He tested it again, bouncing his shoulder and pulling his feet under him. Swiftly, he scooped her up, stepping out into the black drizzle and made his way, as smoothly and quickly as possible, back downstairs. He wrestled for a few minutes to get the shelter door open with his toe and still being silent about it, considering ways to free one hand, when suddenly the door flew open and Sam was grinning up at him.
He assessed Caydens situation for a moment, "Kiss her yet?"
Cayden turned red, but managed a dignified "No." Sam slowly began to close the door to let Cayden resume the practice of dexterity in his toe-door-opening skills.
"Oh, c'mon, Sam!" Cayden hissed at the slowly disappearing crack in the door. Before it was gone, he slipped his toe into the crack and flipped the door back. He glared at Sam as he went down the stairs and placed Ally on her pew.
Sam gave him a mockingly disappointed look and shook his head.
"Aren't you going to cover her?" he asked mockingly.
Cayden simply crossed his arms and glared.
"You're no fun anymore," Sam muttered, he stood in the spotlight of Caydens glare silently for a moment, then sighed and said, "Well, if you're going to be mad at me…."
He took Caydens arm and dragged him into a secluded corner. He had a small sheaf of folded, yellowed paper in his other hand.
"What's that?" Cayden asked as they sat down, facing each other. Sam looked at Cayden absolutely serious for a moment.
"Mom and Dads letter." He said slowly and clearly. Instantly, the atmosphere changed. A moment ago they were playfully mocking each other, now a sober heaviness fill the space. Cayden could feel his heart rate speed up. Sam's eyes were dead serious. Dead.
Caydens eyes widened. "But you said, when I was little, that they didn't leave one! You said…" All the other children had gotten one. It was a tradition that before a parent died, they would write a letter to their children saying what they could before they died. Most parents didn't live more than a month after their child was born. Sam, who had learned to read before Cayden, said they didn't have one. So Cayden watched as Macky and Ally read their words to live by and he sat sadly with Sam. During that moment, he had decided not to go by his fathers' name, Jamie. He had no desire to be named after someone he had never met and decided to use his surname only. He still remembered the conversation. He was seven.
"So, they just didn't write a letter?"
"No."
"Are you sure? It didn't just get lost?"
"No."
"But-"
"There's not a letter, Jamie. I was there when mom died. There was no letter. Drop it."
"What were there names?"
"Abigail and Jamie."
"I'm named after our father?"
"Yes. He died right before you were born. He was twenty-five."
After a moment he stated, "I'm changing my name."
"Jamie."
"I am. I don't want to be named after someone I never knew. After someone who wouldn't write a letter to his kids. Call me 'Cayden.'"
"Your last name?"
"We don't really need last names out here. We don't have family and nobody remembers them anyway."
"Jamie, I'm sure they cared. I'm sure they just wanted us to be happy."
"My name is 'Cayden.'"
Sam had never liked that idea, but never explained why he didn't.
He was going to.
Cayden realized his breathing was shallow and took a deep breath.
"I know what I said, Cay. But they told me not to tell you," he defended himself, but then added quietly, "They told me to do a lot of things and now…."
Cayden held his hand out demanding the letter.
"Cayden, please, before I give you this, listen." He waited until he pulled his hand back his hand, "I would never give you this letter, you weren't supposed to ever know about it, But I failed and I need to leave this with you. You can decide what you want to do with it. Even Vicory doesn't know they wrote this. But our mother was there when Vicory and James got out from behind the Wall. She heard all off their fervent ranting about how terrible they are. But they were trying so hard to adapt to this life that Vicory finally quit thinking about fighting the government and Abby…mom…wanted to give her a quiet life. But our parents still wanted those dreams to happen."
With that he tentatively held out the letter. Cayden didn't take it.
"She initially wrote this letter before I was born. Dad died right before you were born and he added a bit to the end before he died. Mom added the last bit after you were born. She handed me the letter right before she died, after having you."
Cayden swallowed hard. His eyes were fixed on the innocent sheet of paper held out to him, still folded.
He ran his hand through his hair and, in the same motion, swiftly snatched the letter out of Sam's hand. Before he opened it, he turned to lean his back against the wall beside him. He looked at Sam, whose face was full of worry, and opened the letter.
Kids,
We love you. We don't even know you, but you are beautiful people and we'll forever be a part of you. Most parents use these letters from the grave to tell their kids about themselves, so you'll know where you came from. But that's not as important as now and where you're going. Luckily, you'll have your grandparents if you want to know anything about us. There is one thing I'll ask you remember, though. Please, always remember why you're here. This isn't the life we wanted for you. For anyone. Don't ever settle for this. Keep fighting. Just because your enemy locked you in a cell doesn't mean you should give up. The people in this life are forgetting that as generations come. They're resigning themselves to this way of life. In the beginning, our kind had children in hopes that they would bring change, bring a better life. We want you to always remember that's why we had you two beautiful boys, to keep fighting and never resign yourself to this terrible life. Nobody should have to live this desperately and watch this much death so young in life. We would never wish this life on anyone, but we must leave the world with as much hope as we can, and that's you. You are the hope. We're sorry we'll never know what foods you hate, your hobbies, your quirks, or even what shoe you put on first. And we're sorry we forced this life on you, but please remember why we did.
We'll love you forever,
Mom and Dad
Kids, this is your father. I had the head pain two days ago. I need to tell you that I love you. I'm so glad I got to see your strong face, Sam, and I'm so sorry to my unborn child that I'll never see. I love you so much. Both of you. Be strong and always be your own person. Never give up.
I love you.
Sam, I'm dying. You're standing beside me and you look so scared. I'm so sorry I put that look on your face, you don't deserve this. You should be happy. Please be happy. You should both just be kids, I'm sorry I asked you to fight. Don't show Jamie this letter. I shouldn't have asked you to fight. Just be happy, Sam. Please be happy.
Cayden could feel the hot tears and didn't bother to wipe them away. Sam sat beside him with his eyes closed and his teeth clenched. Cayden looked up when he finished, but Sam didn't notice.
"Happy, then?" Cayden asked shortly. Sam inhaled sharply at the sound of his voice.
"Not remotely."
"Then why didn't you show me this before?" Cayden could feel his anger building.
"She told me not to," Sam answered simply. But it wasn't simple. She wrote the last bit on her deathbed.
"Of course she did Sam! She was dying and you looked miserable!"
"Yeah? Funny how death gives you the need to tell the truth, isn't it?" he stated, motioning at their conversation.
"You call this truthful? You're coping out, just like she did!" Sam glared sharply at him, "You didn't act on what she said and now you're handing the responsibility over to me- because you feel guilty!"
Sam didn't know what to say to that. He seemed to struggle for a moment and settled on trying to keep up his argument. But it was weak. He started hesitantly.
"But…she voided what she said in the beginning. She wanted us to be happy…."
"Oh, please. You know you don't believe that. Of course death makes you sad! But it doesn't stop unless you fight. You're the one who told me that! Why? Why didn't you do what she asked in the beginning of the letter?" A sob escaped Caydens anger. He couldn't believe he was arguing with his brother when he was about to leave him forever. His own sob seemed to break him. He grabbed his hair and buried his face in his knees.
"I'm sorry," Sam whispered beside him, "You're right…. I resented it. I didn't want to fight. I watched dad die and then mom, whose dying wish was that I just am happy. And then James died and Arrow…. And now I'm dying."
Cayden looked up. His eyes were fierce and quite dry.
"No. You won't die. I won't- You won't…"
"Cayden," Sam was worried he was taking the letter to heart too fast, "It's too late for me. Don't spend my last hours like thi-"
Cayden interrupted very quietly, but very definite. His fists were tight.
"I can't just watch you die, Sam."
They were silent for a moment. That moment was coming too soon. Then Sam whispered, "Yes. You can."
Cayden woke the next morning in his pew with the light coming in at the wrong angle towards his face. Wrong angle. Wrong. If that really was the sunlight, it had to be almost high noon. He waited and waited for the fog to clear in his brain. There had to be a mistake. After what felt like a lifetime of starring at this innocent ray of light, his stomach finally connected with his brain and turned upside down and then proceeded to try force it's way out of his abdominal cavity. He sat bolt upright, his head spun.
He had to find Sam. Now. He'd wasted so much time sleeping. He stayed up all night with Sam, mostly in silence, and promised himself he wouldn't sleep. Desperately, he looked over at where Sam slept, not expecting him to be there. But he was.
Sam was curled into a tight ball, gasping his hair at the roots. He wasn't breathing at all.
Cayden jumped up and sprinted over to his side. He held Sam's wrist tightly. Sam stayed like that for the longest moment. Curling tighter and tighter.
Finally he gasped and broke out of it, locking eyes with Cayden.
"Interesting wake up call," he gasped weakly. He groaned and closed his eyes resignedly.
"Did you just wake up?" Cayden asked.
"Yeah, I'm so exhausted. I wake up and feel like I was awake the whole time I slept."
"What's it like?" Cayden asked breathlessly.
"The pain?" Sam looked at him sadly but thoughtfully. He began to shake his head in a defeated sort of way, "I don't know how to describe it. It's so…consuming. You'd do anything to make it stop. And it's like your master, and…you're so completely…helpless.
"Cayden. I want to be alone in the end, when it happens," he stated it so bluntly, there was no room for argument.
Cayden wanted to be there for his brother but wanted him to do this his way. Besides, he'd been trying to picture the moment and knew he might not be strong enough to handle it. Sam continued, "I don't want you to see that. Not ever. Not like I saw our parents die."
"Don't be stupid," he said vehemently he had found room for argument here, "Don't worry about me. I want to be there. Do you want me there?"
"I…," he starred Cayden in the eye, "do."
"This is my life, Sam. Our parents chose it and so do i. And if this is part of our- my- decision, then I won't regret it. If this is what this life is…. I've made my choice. But I'm not choosing to live with it. If you're dying, I want to be there. Because this is the life we've chosen. And I don't want you trying to spare me the pain when I have the responsibility to witness the consequences of the decision that I've made."
Sam stared at him with his mouth wide open. "I think you should've been the older brother. I'm doing it all wrong. You take death better than I do."
"I take death better the you?" he repeated uncomprehendingly.
"Cayden. It controls me. That's why I did what mom said. I figured if I focused on being happy, all the people who die wouldn't be so hard to deal with. But it's even worse, ignoring death. Because every time a person dies you know you did nothing to prevent it. You, though. Every time someone dies, you want to fight it. You don't let anyone die."
Cayden let that sink in for a moment.
"It hurts even more because I don't know how to fight." He leaned his head back in frustration of the truth of his words.
"Don't worry about that. You will." Sam said in absolute confidence. He closed his eyes in his assurance. Cayden just starred at him blankly.
"Is like one of those famous deathbed epiphanies? Where somehow the guy has all the answers because he's dying?"
"Maybe. Or maybe you're having the epiphany. I've never heard you talk like this. You can do this. You want to.
Cayden considered Sam's dying words. He remembered Arrow, Sam's friend, dying about a month ago, he remembered Angela, Fleas mother, and Eric, her father. Finally, he remembered James. He remembered the bombs falling, the shrill whistle, and the slicing pain down his eye, James screams as he died, Vicorys sobbing…. It was all his fault. All of it. Not just James death, but that he hadn't done anything up to this point to stop all the other pointless deaths. He looked at Sam sadly, now he was leaving. Sam was right. He wanted to stop it.
As if the moment knew Caydens thoughts, Sam suddenly receded into the tight ball with an anguished yell. He drew his knees to his head and stopped breathing.
From when the head pains started, the person had about three days left. As the end drew closer, the pains would come more frequently, until finally you had the last one, which would kill you. It gave no time for last words, no time for a last breath even. You couldn't go fighting in a flame of glory nor wander to some awe-inspiring spot. The pain controlled you.
Suddenly, Cayden realized it was up to him to make this easy for Sam. To make it what he wanted. With a jolt he remembered want Sam wanted before he died. He knew if he asked Sam if meant it, he'd deny it as a joke. He jumped up and sprinted out of the shelter and into the church.
He was disarmed for a moment when he found Ally. His mission was to drag her down to Sam and kiss her. He wasn't thinking romantically, he was thinking practically of his brother. He and Ally could sort it out later.
But as he entered the church he heard the sound of Ally playing her piano fill the cathedral. It was such a beautifully sad song. She played it perfectly. He'd heard her play it before, but for some reason it meant more to him now. The emotion of it seemed to echo off the walls, off his breath. The room contained it so it was trapped in its walls. It was too beautiful.
So was she. She sat up straight, contrasting the decrepit, lopsided piano. Her hands moved slowly with the song. Her fingers light but deliberate.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered Sam and began to make is way towards her. Her song was coming to a close. He took her left hand away from the keys before she could complete the final chord and lifted her upwards. The song rang incomplete in his ears.
"Cayden…" she whispered, "Sam…?"
Her eyes darted over his shoulder and she looked relived for a moment. Then she looked back into Caydens eyes.
He pressed his lips to hers and she gasped. They kissed and Cayden could feel their hearts beating, like they were bouncing of each other.
Distantly, Cayden could swear he heard the sound of clapping. As he tried to focus on it, he realized that's what it had to be.
He pulled back but still held Ally tight, she rested her head on his chest. Cayden looked around at the source of the clapping.
It was Sam. Despite looking tired and weak, he wore a huge grin on his face, He leaned for support in the doorway and stopped clapping when Cayden spotted him.
"Why are you up?" Cayden demanded weakly.
"Didn't want to die in the dark. I always knew you'd be a hopeless romantic."
With that, he slid down into a heap in the doorway with a small scream. Cayden ran to him.
"Sam!" He knelt by his side and was conscience of Ally beside him. "Sam! NO! Please, no. No, no, no." He tried to pry his hands away from his hair as the pain took Sam again.
His heart leaped and he felt sick as he discovered it was perfectly easy to remove his hands. Sam's wrists were limp in Caydens hands.