Author's Note: At the time I wrote this, it had been an entire year since I first started writing Broken and Together (and now it's been two!), and I just had to do something to celebrate it. So I thought why not write a one-shot? It was also supposed to be a nice buffer between part one and two of the fic, but since now that's not happening, I think it serves a sweet finale and celebration of this story's anniversary.

I can't believe how far this fic has come, from a random little idea I got to a full fic that's gotten more attention than I expected. You won't believe how much it's changed since I've planned and written; it's insane how far it's come. And, yes, I've hit rough patches. It's completely worth it, though. This story will always be quite special to me, after what it's gone through and the people I've met through it. Now enjoy this one-shot in honor of one (now two) whole year of our favorite technician duo, and the finale to this fic!

~February: 1983~

~Three months until the party~

"I'm still your friend, Charlie. I'll always be. I…well, I just…um…there's a lot going on. I'd rather not talk about it."

"Okay…at least try to be nicer, okay? Not for me, for Evan."

"I…well, I…sure. I'll try. Yeah…"

"Good, because you don't know how lucky you are to have him, and…and I just hate seeing you act like this. I can't lose anybody else, I…I never want to, not after that…that horrid feeling when I lost Sammy. I hate it, I want him back, but he's gone. I don't want to lose anyone else. Never…"

"Promise me I'll never lose you. You're my best friend, I…I never want to. Not just to death, but…but you've been acting so terrible recently. I feel like you're drifting away."

"Sorry. You…you won't lose me."

"Promise?"

"I promise…"

...

Charlie stared up at the ceiling from where she lay on her bed, ankles crossed and an untouched book on her stomach. The conversation from just a few days ago replayed itself in her head, practically taunting her. She hadn't seen Michael since then. True, perhaps it wasn't his choice. He could be grounded, after all. That happened a lot to the young, rebellious teen. Even so, she couldn't help but feel like the conversation had been for nothing. Again. Michael was still ignoring her, like always.

A knock sounded at the door, drawing her from her thoughts. She sat up and faced it in anticipation. "Come in."

The door opened, and Henry stepped inside, sending his daughter a faint smile. "I'm heading for bed now, Charlie. Make sure you don't stay up too late."

"Don't worry," she said, forcing a smile back. "I won't."

"Alright." He began to duck out but stopped short. "Is something wrong?"

"Uh—" Charlie swiped back a strand of hair— "no, not really. Just thinking."

"I see." He frowned, eyes shifting between her and the hall beyond her room. "Well, just remember, you can come to me if you every need advice or help. Alright?"

"I know, Dad." She kept the smile in place. "It's nothing bad, I'm just a little worried." And hurt, she silently added.

"Alright." He ducked out of the room. "Goodnight, Charlie."

"Goodnight." She flopped back onto her bed. With a shake of her head, she tried to brush off the lingering feeling that she was being forgotten. She hated being lonely, especially after losing, well…Sammy. Breathing a sigh, she picked up the book she'd previously been reading and tried to force herself to focus on the words. Everything was fine. She didn't need to worry like this.

Just as she started to get into the story, rapid banging jolted her out of it. Tucking the novel under her arm, she jumped to her feet and glanced around. It had sounded a bit like knocking, but when she peeked into the corridor, no one was there. Frowning, she shut the door and turned. More banging came, causing her to jump. Her eyes trailed to one of her curtained windows. Was it coming from there? It certainly sounded like it. Against her better judgment, Charlie crept over and pulled back the curtains. She nearly shouted in surprise at seeing another person outside, his hands pressed against the glass.

"Mike?" She unlocked the window and pushed it open. Lowering her voice, she poked out her head and said, "What are you doing here? It's night!"

"Uh…" Michael's eyes trailed to the book she still held. He looked back at her, flashing a grin. "I've come to take you away to Neverland."

She huffed, setting her book aside. "Very funny. What are you actually doing here?"

"Getting away from my stuffed-up house. Duh?" Michael shrugged. Grabbing onto either side of the window, he started to boost himself up.

As he set his foot on the windowsill, she shoved it off. "No. You're not coming in." He gave a yelp, pitching backwards into the bushes. Charlie slapped a hand over her mouth and muffled a laugh. "Sorry."

Mike got back up, shooting her a glare. "Wow, that wasn't very hospitable of you."

"Can't really blame me," she said, resting her arms on the sill. "A teenage boy trying to get inside around eleven at night?"

"Oh, so you're not that type of girl then?" said Michael with a faint smirk.

She tensed, flushing red. "Mike!"

"Shut up, I'm just teasing you." He leaned against the house and looked up at her. She gazed back down, her hair falling in front of her face. He grumbled as it got in his face as well. Swiping at it, he said, "Anyways, if you want a proper answer, then let me in."

She rolled her eyes and tossed her hair onto her back. "How about instead you give me the story, and if it's not stupid, then I won't report you to my dad?"

He scoffed. "Fine, whatever." He looked off to the distance, rubbing his arms against the gripping breeze. "My dad decided to ground me again. For basically no reason this time, too! It wasn't that bad; I've already done it a lot." His angry expression began to fade. "The point is, though, we got into an argument, and I just…ran away. I dunno." He jerked his shoulders into a shrug. "Not sure what I'm gonna do next, but thought I'd come here. My other friends are already kind of in hot water too."

Charlie thought over his words for a moment. "So you came here because you got into an argument with your father?"

"Yeah," he said. "It would make sense if you were there."

Frowning, she reached out and tapped him on the cheek. He glanced back up at her as she said, "I think you should go back. Running away isn't a solution, you're just getting yourself in even more trouble."

"Ugh, I know." He scowled. "Don't lecture me, okay? I just panicked in the moment and ran out. Big deal."

Charlie held his gaze, silently considering what to do. Already regretting her decision, she ducked back inside and opened her window wider. With a grin, he grabbed onto the sill and yanked himself in. She backed up, watching him climb inside.

"Knew you'd come around eventually, Char." He froze, his boot getting caught on the window. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed his leg and pulled. Immediately it released, and he fell into the room, sprawling onto the floor with a loud thud.

Charlie giggled, watching him to his feet and mutter to himself angrily. "That was elegant," she said.

"You try climbing through that window then, idiot." He gently clonked her on the head.

"Yeah, well, I don't sneak into people's houses late at night." She trudged over to her bed and sat on the edge. "What were you even thinking coming here? You can't stay long, you know. You're lucky I even let you in."

"Eh." Michael plunked down beside her. "I just felt like it, I don't know."

"Aw, you miss me?" Charlie sent him a teasing smile.

He rolled his eyes. "I don't know."

She glanced away, her smile fading fast. "So why did you get grounded this time?"

"Sneaking out," he replied.

She raised her eyebrows at him.

He met her look with another roll of his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Guess I'm just digging my own grave now, huh?"

"Sometimes I don't understand you anymore, Mike."

"I know."

"Why are you acting out so much?"

"Hey, not everyone has to be Miss 'Perfect follow the rules all the time'." He pointed his finger at her, making her go cross-eyed as it neared her face. He snorted and booped her nose. "You're adorable."

Charlie shoved his hand away, her cheeks growing hotter. "You're sending mixed signals here, dummy. You first insult me, and then you call me adorable?"

"Yup," he said, the short response irritating her a bit.

She rested her chin on her wrist and narrowed her eyes at him. "Plus, I don't always follow the rules. I remember when we were younger, dashing around the diner and getting into all sorts of trouble."

"Mostly by accident, though," Michael added.

"And what's wrong with deciding not to be a rule breaking twit?"

"Ouch."

"Sorry." She chuckled and shook her head. "I'm just not a big fan of your rebellious, jerk phase." Her expression darkened. "Especially, what you do to—"

"Evan," he finished. "Yeah, I know. I get it. I didn't come here to be scolded; Father's already done that enough." He scowled at the floor, unbeknownst to Charlie's worried gaze. "Seems like that's all he ever does, even when I do things right. I'm just not enough for him, I guess."

"Whoa, whoa." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't say that, Mike. Uncle William can just be a little strict, of course you're enough."

Michael looked at her, a blank expression upon his face. "I know."

She winced, recognizing the flat and fake tone in his voice. "Do you though?"

He turned away again. "I don't know why I even came here. And you wonder why I don't hang out with you much anymore, huh?"

She tensed. "Mike, I—"

"I'll just go." He stood up and headed for the window.

"Hey!" She jumped up, quickly catching his wrist and holding him back. "Why are you leaving? Did I say something? I mean, sure, I scolded you a little, but—"

"Ugh." He wrested his hand away and turned to her, glaring. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I don't know why I…I mean, it's just, um…" He shoved his hands in his pockets, keeping his eyes glued to the carpet. Charlie frowned, thinking over their conversation and the past several months. With every week, it felt like they had distanced more. The best time she could think of where they actually had fun together was Christmas Eve, and after that, their recent conversation. But that wasn't even fun. It's just a phase, she thought, reminding herself of what her father had said time and time again, and would probably have to again. People change, but he'll come around. She knew a lot of people around their age did things like this, but then again, what was up with him bullying Evan so much? That didn't feel like her best friend at all. Even if he was acting out or had bad influences in his life, that just felt so much worse. Did he even mean what he'd promised her?

She was drawn by her thoughts by Michael nudging her. "Thanks for letting this suspicious intruder in." He pointed to himself with a small smirk. "He'd be lost without you, y'know." She blinked at him, taken aback by the sudden change in mood. Had he noticed her down expression?

She smiled fondly, some of her confusion and sadness vanishing. "Couldn't leave my best friend out in the cold, now could I? Even if he's an idiot."

"Ouch." Michael went back to her bed.

As he sat down, she settled beside him. Her thoughts were wandering again, once again over how they had distanced from each other, why Michael acted like this, or if they'd ever get back the full bond they once had, but through all the wondering and worrying, came a new realization. Michael had come to her. Not his reckless, bully friends. Charlie. And as long as he still did that, there was hope he'd get out of this irritating, rude, and horrid phase of his life. Flopping back onto her mattress, she said, "So think you're going to leave anytime soon?"

"Meh." Michael lied down beside her. "Not until you kick me out, I guess."

"You know you're going to have to face your dad eventually."

"I know."

"But you're still staying here?"

"You got it."

"You're impossible."

"Pretty much."

Charlie glanced over at him. He was still staring at the ceiling, a neutral expression on his face. Her eyes trailed over him, taking in the clothes he wore, which were certainly not fit for being outside in the midst of February. Her gaze stilled when they rested on his wrist, partly hidden by the sleeve of his jean jacket. Moving cautiously, she rolled up his sleeve a little. Just barely visible past his clunky watch, she found a familiar bracelet—the purple once she'd made for him on the day they met, when she dragged that grouchy little kid he had been over to her table, thus beginning their friendship. She beamed, turning her gaze up to the ceiling and taking his hand in hers. Her pleasure grew as his fingers willingly laced with hers.

"You know," she said, "you might be all tough and jerky now, but I can tell. You're still the same Mike."

Michael snorted. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know." She rubbed her thumb against his hand. "Just missed you, that's all."

For the next two hours, the two lay there and chatted. They talked about this and that, only growing annoyed at each other once or twice, when Mike brought up subjects that she wasn't that fond of. Once they mostly ran out of things to talk about, he decided to sketch her, and to her dismay, he drew her in a purposely ridiculous fashion. This caused her to hit him with her pillow, and one pillow fight later, Michael was finally heading for the window.

"I better go," he said. "I can sneak back into my house pretty easily; maybe things won't be so bad if Father discovers I'm there by the morning." He swung himself out of the window.

Charlie treaded over, once again leaning on the sill and gazing down at him. "This was kind of fun, honestly. It's been a while since we hung out like this, huh?"

"Guess so," he said with a shrug. "I'll see you around, okay?"

"'Kay." She sent him a smile.

He waved, then dashed off, fleeing her sight quickly. She stared after him, then ducked back in. She shoved the window shut and rubbed at her arms which were chilled by the biting weather of February. Sinking back onto her bed, she couldn't stop her smile from broadening. Sure, Michael was still being, well, Michael-ish, but this interaction gave her more hope. Perhaps things weren't as bad as she thought they would be. She was getting her best friend back. Finally.

That's what she thought, anyway...

Over the next few months, his behavior only worsened. Or it at least didn't change, and just when she thought she would fix it permanently; try to truly talk it out, it happened. The bite. She knew she would never forget what happened; showing up at the diner, seeing the ambulances, finding Michael broken, trying to comfort him as he clung to her and wept. She only saw him four times after that, once to comfort, once more to try and keep his mind off Evan in the hospital, and then finally, seeing him leave that exact hospital with William and Elizabeth after Evan's passing, Michael weeping and trembling. He'd passed out from stress and grief before Charlie could say anything to him, and the final time she saw him was at the funeral. When he broke down in the middle of the service, William had shood him out, and she didn't get the chance to speak to him once again. For the next several weeks, she was left agonizing over her best friend. The thought that Evan was gone felt impossible, that the sweet little boy she'd seen as a little brother had been taken so cruelly left her numb, but even more so, the sudden fear and sorrow for Michael. She wanted to reach out to him, comfort him again. But ever since then, only William ever answered her calls, and every time she went over, she was shood away, either by William saying they were busy or that Michael didn't want to see her.

"I don't understand," Charlie whispered, staring down at the cup she held.

Henry looked over from where he stood at the kitchen counter. With a sorry smile, he walked over and gently tucked her hair behind her ear. "I know, Charlotte. It will be alright, okay? We'll keep our door open, keep reminding him that we're here."

"I-I know, but why is he doing this?" She looked up at him. "I…I just want to make sure he's okay, I want to be there for him. I'm so worried, I just—" She pressed her lips together and silently begged herself not to cry.

Henry knelt down beside the chair and wrapped his arms around her. Giving into the hug, Charlie buried her face in his shoulder. "This is a hard time for all of us," he said, rubbing her back. "Everyone deals with grief differently. Michael will come around with time; all we can do is be there for him, even if he doesn't accept our help at first. Alright?"

"I know," she said, her words muffled. "I just love him so much; I love all of them. I wish I could do more."

"I know." Henry drew away and smiled sadly at his daughter. "And I'm sure you will."

Charlie forced a smile back. As he straightened and went back to cooking, she took a sip of her beverage and thought over the horrid situation. There had to be some way to reach him, right? She couldn't just sit back and wait. For the rest of dinner, she thought it over, scrambling for some way she could reach out to Michael better, or at least talk to him somehow. She was tired of requesting his attention and speaking to him through William. Clearly, it wasn't working. That night, while she lay in bed, she gazed out her window at the night sky. She did it for a while, still thinking and planning, and just like that, it hit her. She knew exactly what to do.

Jumping up from her bed, she changed back out of her pajamas into the clothes she'd worn earlier. She then crept through the house, going as quietly as she could. As she slipped out the front door, she silently apologized to her father for sneaking out, then dashed out into the night. Her hands shook and her heart thundered with every step she took. She had never done anything like this before, but already she knew it was completely worth it. She needed to do this.

Fighting through her nerves and the need to turn back, Charlie kept going until finally she reached her destination. She sighed with relief as she looked upon the Afton household. Hastening around the back of the house, she searched until she found the proper window. She stopped outside it, then reached up and knocked lightly. When there was no response, she repeated the action a few times. A faint glow illuminated between the cracks of the black curtains. A new sense of triumph and hope awakened within her. She stepped back, waiting in anticipation. Just as she expected, the curtains drew back. Michael stood there, gazing down at her through the glass. Her heart hurt the moment she saw him—his messy hair, exhausted lonesome expression; the deep shadows beneath his eyes. It all made her want to break straight through the glass separating them and pull him into her arms, then never let go.

Despite the sadness lingering at her core, Charlie smiled up at him. He stared, his expression remaining the same. Her smile wavered. "Mike?" she said. No response. The only thing he did was lower his gaze. Her smile vanished, and she reached out, pressing her hands against the window. "Mike?" He looked back up, tired blue eyes meeting hers. She swallowed thickly, waiting for him to open the window, silently begging him to. "Michael," she whispered. She meant to go on, but all words fled her grasp as Michael shook his head, then drew the curtains back shut. At first, she didn't move, staring at the closed window. When it finally sank in what he had done, what he'd been doing for the past several weeks, she fell to her knees and put her face in her hands. This time, she couldn't stop them. The tears all came rushing out of her, one after the other, accompanied by broken sobs.

Turning around, she slumped against the wall behind her and drew her legs to her chest. She buried her face in her knees and kept crying, unable to stop herself. Her best friend was gone. He had shut her out, just as she'd feared. This felt worse than what she'd originally feared, though. So much worse. He was hurting, and she could do nothing about it. Her worst fear that she'd lose yet another person had come true, and in almost the worst possible way it could.

Unbeknownst to her, on the other side of the wall, another broken figure huddled on the floor, weeping along with her. They were separated...hurting...broken...

And that's how it would stay.

~June: 1987~

Charlie tapped her fingers on the table, glancing over the blueprint in front of her. She always enjoyed doing this, examining the sketches and mechanics Henry and William had sketched out of the animatronics. She knew them well by now but studying them still felt like it truly heightened her knowledge of robotics. Plus, it always sparked her need to build and create. She smiled to herself, tracing her finger along the diagram.

"Charlie?" A voice brought her straight out of her calculative thoughts.

She lifted her head, meeting Henry with a welcoming smile. "Hey, Dad. I was just looking at the blueprints."

"Again?" Henry chuckled. "You're going to know more about those machines than me soon enough." His expression shifted, and he went closer, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I have something to tell you."

"Oh." Charlie fidgeted with the ends of her hair. "Sounds serious. Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no, not at all." He waved a hand. "Let's see, how should I tell you this?" He withdrew one of his hands and rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "I might as well just start with how this happened. William and I were talking, uh, about the past mostly. I mentioned…Michael."

She tensed, nodding. "Okay."

"I said how much I've missed him," Henry said, "and I asked after him. I have tried to keep tabs on him over the past few years, but both he and William have been quite private about their lives since, well…" He trailed off. She nodded again, lowering her gaze. She didn't dare think of where this might be going, simply listening as he went on, "My point is, one thing led to another, and somehow, I convinced William to ask Michael if he could visit. It's been over four years since we last saw him, after all."

Immediately, Charlie looked back up, her mouth opening as if she were about to speak. No words came to her, not a single one. Her thoughts raced off though, reminding her of all the times they had spent together, simply two best friends having the time of the lives. That is, until it all shattered. After being shut out, slowly, she had lost nearly all hope of speaking to him again, even seeing him. It felt so wrong, losing contact with someone she once loved dearly and even still did, in a way. She almost hated herself for not trying harder, but a certain point, there was nothing she could do. Because of this, she hadn't brought up the subject of Michael in ages, though it was rare even a day would pass where she didn't spare their lost friendship at least one thought. It was sort of difficult not to, especially since Henry still had some contact with William. This contact had grown stronger when they finally decided to open a new pizzeria together, and Charlie had briefly held onto a vague sense of hope that she would see Michael again. But it was squandered when William never even brought him up. And yet, here Henry was, telling her this.

"Charlotte?" Henry tilted his head. "Are you alright?"

"What?" She snapped out of it, blinking a few times. "Oh, um, yes, I'm fine. Completely fine." She let out a long breath. "So is he coming?"

"No." He smiled. "He's here."

A breath caught in her throat. "He's here? In the pizzeria?" A sudden burst of excitement went through her stomach, and she clenched her hands to keep from throwing them in the air. Sure, this was also accompanied by nervousness, but just the chance to see Michael again almost sent her running straight out of parts and service.

"He is," he said, "and I'm sure you don't want to keep him waiting."

"Does he know that I'm…" She trailed off, gesturing to herself.

"No." He shook his head. "I simply told him there's someone here for him to meet."

"But we've already…" She changed course as she noticed Henry's smug expression. "Oh, you want it to be a surprise."

"I'm sure he will be happy to see you again," he said, a fond tone to his voice. "I remember when you two were close, such an adorable pair of kids, getting into trouble."

She smiled, glancing off to the side. "Yeah. I miss those days." Taking a breath, she headed for the door. "Let's go say hi then."

"Of course." Henry left with her. While they made the short trek towards the dining room, Charlie once again found her thoughts rushing through her head. In a matter of seconds she had already wondered over what she could say, what he looked like, how he would react to her, how she looked, and what would even happen once they were reunited. She did her best not to show any signs of nerves as they finally entered into the room. She paused near the doorway, spotting two men standing in front of the stage where the toy animatronics stood, motionless. They appeared to be speaking, but they stopped when Charlie kept walking, and she and Henry came over.

"Michael, I'm sure you remember Charlie." Henry motioned to her as father and son turned to them. "You two were quite close when you were younger, hm?"

Michael noticeably stiffened, looking at her. "Charlie?" She stood still for a moment, scrambling for something to say as she took in his appearance. He was considerably taller than the last time she'd seen him. Taller than her, in fact. He looked a bit different, too. A little more like William, although Michael's features were less sharp than William's, and his eyes were still bright blue, unlike his father's harsh grey ones. She almost chuckled as she realized Michael's brown hair still looked a bit fluffy and mussed-up, another difference between him and William. Yes. This was Michael. She knew those eyes; that face, despite the clear exhaustion lingering in his shocked expression. And immediately she wanted to hug him, put her arms around him after so long apart, like she should have time and time again after the bite.

She managed to restrain herself, settling for a smile and a wave. "Um…hi. Didn't know you were coming. It's been a while." She almost cringed at how awkward and stiff her words sounded. Certainly not how they used to talk to each other.

"Yes," Michael said. "It has." Then everyone went silent, Michael glancing away and Henry and William looking on, as if they expected them to carry on the conversation. Charlie shifted her weight, silently wishing she could find something better she could say. After all, they had been apart for four years now—two people who used to do everything together. This shouldn't be happening, yet it was, and she rather hated it.

"Well, I'll let you two talk." Henry finally broke the silence. "William and I have to go make sure the foxy animatronic can be fixed again. Those kids…they always play so rough with it. We'll be back in a moment." He nodded to Michael, then started away. William followed, leaving the two of them alone together. Charlie immediately knew she had to say something—break the silence somehow, see if they truly could reconnect.

"So, how have you been?" she asked, flicking her eyes over his face. Once again, she took notice of the shadows beneath his eyes. "You look a little—"

"Tired?" Michael finished. Had he noticed her looking at the dark smudges under his eyes? She certainly wouldn't have mentioned it, though. Count on Mike to be blunt about himself. "Yes, your father just said that," he went on. "I suppose I don't always get much sleep."

She frowned, familiar concern stirring in her gut. She had hoped something would've changed, that he would at least seem less exhausted than during their last exchanges. "That's almost exactly what you said the last few times we spoke. Have you been doing alright?" Please tell me you have. She couldn't help but think.

Michael paused, then he gulped and replied with, "I'm managing. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm doing pretty good," she said, trying to push herself past the vaguely concerning answer. "Currently training to be a technician, sort of following in my father's footsteps."

"Oh." He nodded. "Good for you. I myself am not really into that sort of thing." She remembered that. Despite William being insistent that one day Michael would also take up robotics, the young boy had never been interested in technician work, even outright said it to her.

"Right," she said as she thought this over. Her thoughts drifted at the mention of fathers. "Unfortunately, my father's a bit protective of me. He doesn't let me work much, especially without him around. It's kind of irritating." Kind of was a bit of an understatement. She still didn't understand what was so dangerous about tinkering with the animatronics at least a little.

"I can imagine so," Michael replied.

Worried that the conversation may end there, she hastily found a new subject to bring up. "So what's your job?"

"Um…" His face fell a bit more. "Actually, I sort of lost mine today."

She winced. "That sucks, I'm sorry."

"Meh, it was no surprise." He shrugged. And the conversation ended there, much to Charlie's dismay. She lowered her head, casting around for something she could say, anything. She had to at least try to talk to him longer. It felt strange seeing him again, but despite this and how miserable he looked, refreshing. Inspiring, even. If only it could last longer, but with how this was headed, it felt like they would leave the pizzeria as strangers.

Michael sighed, bringing her attention back to him. Running his hands down his face, he said, "Look, Charlie, it's nice to see you again…it really is."

"It's nice to see you again too," she said almost automatically, her heart sinking. Where was this going? Him saying that he didn't want to see her again? That they just didn't know each other anymore, and he didn't want to get close again?

"And," he said, looking back up, "I'm sorry."

She frowned, the words taking her by surprise. "What?"

"I'm sorry for dropping contact," he said, surprising her even more. "It was a mistake, I just…I…I don't know, I got so messed up and depressed. I thought that—" he shook his head— "no, it doesn't matter what I thought. Just…I'm sorry."

Charlie took only a moment to reply, just barely catching up to what was happening. Twisting her hair around her fingers, she tugged on it and tilted her head as she gazed at him. "Where is this coming from?" Was he implying he wanted to see her again? That finally the days of being apart were over, and shouldn't have happened in the first place?

Michael turned away, almost crushing these hopes. "Well, we just met again," he said. "I thought it needed to be said. I'm not sure if I'll see you much, but—"

"No," she cut in, almost reaching out to grab him. She stopped herself in time. "I'm sure you will."

"Really?" He sent a confused look over his shoulder. "I just thought, when you stopped trying to contact me after I did the same, that you'd realized you didn't like me, and you saw me for what I really am."

Charlie stepped nearer. Those words felt like a punch to the gut, the horrid realization that Michael could hate himself. That's not that he meant, right? He couldn't think of himself terribly. "What do you mean what you really are?" she asked, almost afraid to.

"Never mind that," he said, "I just thought—"

"Well don't think it," she broke in, a new determination coming over her, fueled by his broken expression and all their years of disconnection. They shouldn't have happened, and she refused to let them happen again. "I truly have missed you," she said. "I think it'd be nice if you came around more often. My dad's missed you too, you know. Even after…you-know-what, we still cared about you." She sent him a small smile, hoping it and her simple words were enough to convey what she had wanted to say from the beginning, what her father had told her to do. Be open, let him know she's there. Even four years later, even after she gave up. She was here. "So, I don't know, visit occasionally or something. It'd be nice to get to know you again, Mike." Nice? What an understatement. She silently wished she'd been a bit more emotional, or perhaps less so. Judging by how long Michael stared, she'd certainly taken him by surprise.

All doubts faded when he returned her faint smile with one of his own. "Huh. You called me Mike. Haven't heard you do that in forever."

A new warmth entered her chest, and she couldn't keep her smile from widening. "Haven't heard your dorky British accent in forever."

She almost regretted the teasing, but he immediately replied with a wave of his hand, saying, "Oh hush, you know you like it. Can't be any more ridiculous than you saying I'm from British."

She stiffened at the memory, nearly laughing. "Oh no, you still remember that?"

"How could I forget?"

"I think I'm gonna die of embarrassment."

"Don't worry, if you do, I'll bury you in British."

"Oh no." Charlie shook her head, now laughing for real. She calmed quickly, the warmth growing at their more natural and amusing interactions. Much better than the awkward exchanges; now it felt almost like old times. And even if it didn't completely, finally getting to see the charming and amusing side of him filled her with a new sense of happiness and relief. "Glad to see you've still got your sense of humor," she said. The next words she spoke she felt like she'd been waiting for ages to say. "Welcome back, Mike."

"Yes." He chuckled a bit. "I…suppose it's good to be back." He threw a glance over his shoulder at the glass doors. "If you don't mind, I'm going to get going, though."

She nodded, tempted to ask him to stay. Maybe ending with this pleasant interaction was the best decision for now, though. "That's fine," she said. "I'll see you around, right?"

Michael didn't even pause before saying, "We already agreed to that, of course you will." He headed for the exit, waving over his shoulder. "Goodbye, Charlie. It was great seeing you again."

She grinned and waved back. "You too." She didn't take her eyes off him until he disappeared into the parking lot. As soon as he was gone, she gave a cheer and hopped up and down.

"Wow, someone seems excited." A voice came from behind.

Charlie spun around, her face growing hot. "Oh, um, yeah a little."

Henry walked over, smiling fondly. "Thought I'd stop by again, make sure everything was going well. Sorry if it was a bit hasty of me to leave you two alone."

"Oh, no, I think it went really well," she said. "I never expected this to happen, but Dad—" she took his hands and beamed at him— "Michael's back. My best friend's back!" And this time, after years of worrying after him and then missing him endlessly, after time and time again of her thinking she would get through to him only for him to distance himself even further…

She was right.

Author's Note: Dang, I really enjoyed writing this. It was nostalgic and quite wonderful to just go back to the roots of the story. It makes me happy how far this has come and how much farther I'll take it. I hope you all enjoyed this! I know some of it was a previous scene only through Charlie's POV instead, but I thought it would be a good addition for an anniversary story.

And yes, this is the end of the fic. But I've had a sequel in the works for a while, so eventually, that will come out.

But again, thank you so much for reading!