Chapter Text
Sammy’s phone had been ringing and pinging non-stop all day, from as soon as he left the station till now, almost 12 hours later, and he ignored it. He could see who was calling from the phone’s position on his nightstand, and he slumped against the headboard of his bed. Ben, several times an hour, call and text. Emily, several times every two hours, including several texts and one that almost managed to make him smile. “I keyed Frickard’s car.” A text from Ben 20 minutes later “Emily keyed Fuckard’s car AND gave him another black eye.”. Troy, Archie (How he got his number he wasn’t sure.), Ron, Loretta, Mary, Betty, even Hershall.
Several weird callers and texts from numbers he didn’t know.
None of them a number or name that he wanted to see.
If he had been honest with himself, he would have told Ben that a part of him gave up as soon as he entered this damn town, as soon as he got lost in Sweetzer Forest, as soon as he was ‘told’ about General Abeline because how. How was it this town, this innocent on the outside looking town, managed to consume the man that he loved so intensely? Had Lily been right when, in one of her angry, scathing messages she’d left after Jack disappeared, that he didn’t disappear, he just left Sammy for something else, he realized Sammy was a fraud, an asshole, a waste of time? But of course, that ended up not being what happened. Jack was just gone, period.
Jack was gone, and Sammy was sure he had an idea as to where, or at least as to who knew where.
Why had he stayed for so long? Why had he stayed for three years? Did he really think Jack was there? Alive?
His mind betrayed him and immediately answered, ‘Yes, of course you did. Because you love him.’.
Love. Present tense. Not loved.
Get your shit together Stevens. Take the hint from the universe, he isn’t alive, just leave, become a hermit somewhere, so the world doesn’t have to be exposed to your idiocy.
As he drained the last dregs of his last bottle of Fireball, Sammy looked at his phone, nearly dead now. 300 text messages, 100 missed calls, and 50 voicemails. Most of them from Ben.
Ben, his wonderful best friend, his co-host, and the one he feels like he has disappointed the most in all this. He knew going into the year he wouldn’t be there much longer, but he had hoped he would have been able to tell Ben in a…less dramatic fashion than he had.
In the end, he disappointed everyone in his life.
When he was younger, he never really ‘came out’ to his family, his parents already knew, and his cousins, Louise and Robert, who felt like siblings to him, knew as well. He dated a couple of times in college, but nothing too serious. Most people either didn’t know or didn’t comment if they did know. He hadn’t really ever been the ‘settle down’ type, the ‘commitment’ type, not out of any cliché really, he just never ‘clicked’ with anyone enough to consider it. After his mother died when he was 26 of breast cancer, his want to find that happiness dwindled even more, his anger at the world for taking his mother away, damaging his relationship with his father, and his cousins move across the country after the funeral leading him down the ‘loner’ path.
And then he moved to San Francisco, California from Portland, Oregon when he was 26 and that is when it happened, that is when he met Jack. He’d been hired by a local newspaper as a new ‘Think Piece’ writer, something Jack would later tease him endlessly for, and had been told on his first day that the Wright siblings, Jack and Lily, of the paper’s sister journal were the ones he would have to impress, to try and out do, to aim for. He met them in person a month later at a dinner held by a benefactor of both of the paper’s, and Sammy still cringed when he thought of how much he blushed and fumbled over his words when he met them, especially Jack. He wasn’t prepared for Jack. Lily had seen how red his face had gotten and had smirked, well aware of her brother’s effect on…everyone really. But especially the new guy from up north. Jack was flirty with him, charming, and stuck close to him the entire night. Lily laughed and added some of her own wisdom and jokes to discussions. They used to be okay with each other.
They started dating a month later. They told each other about their childhoods, their hopes and dreams. They grew closer. Sammy, Lily, and Jack started their own blog and then their own, small podcast. It wasn’t much but it meant something to them. They rose in the ranks of their papers, earning reputations and awards for their journalism. Three years into the relationship, Sammy had told Jack he wanted to be in his own show, doing his own thing, that he dreamed of being the household name that was loved and hated in equal measure. He wanted to be famous.
With a sly grin that had convinced him years earlier to say yes to a first date, Jack told him they should do exactly that. But not there, not in San Francisco. They needed to go somewhere else. They needed to start a new life.
And that’s how they ended up on a plane to Seattle, Washington less than five hours later, having packed only essentials and a few keepsakes, telling no one they were going.
Now, seven years later, the elation he’d felt on that plane, the giddiness over doing something naughty, the joy of being there with Jack was…gone. Just like Jack.
He’d loved him, he loved him more than any of it. Sure the fame and fortune were nice. The house, the cars, all the fancy things had been great. But none of it meant anything without him, without Jack.
And now, now what? Leave? What else could he do? He didn’t want to give up Jack, but how could he go on knowing he would face a time where he didn’t think about Jack?
His phone went off again, startling him. He sees an unknown number on the screen, and, tired, spent and distraught, he picks it up, fully ready to tell off someone like Pete or whoever for calling him at midnight like an ass. With 19% battery left, he swipes to answer and hears a sickeningly familiar dark sound, the same as when Debbie had been in trouble the first time…
“Who is this? Debbie? Is that you?”
“This isn’t Debbie no. Should I be worried?” The voice at the other end sends chills down his spine, and he feels the bile building in his throat. He hasn’t heard that voice as not a recording in over three years. He hears a loud explosion outside, and starts when he can hear it faintly on the other end of the line. “Sammy?” the voice asks. “You there? This is kind of hard to do… the lines get crossed and…” Sirens outside his window, past the fence and in the street, shouting. The explosion sounded like it came from the edge of town. He hears static, and then a low, terrifying sound he’s heard before. “Please, Sammy… I just…the darkness is coming back. I don’t have…I just want to hear your voice…”
Pure chaos outside, a nightmare, people in the streets. He hears his neighbor say something about the Institute…
“Sammy, please…”
“Jack… I…” more static, the low sound getting stronger and stronger until…
“Sammy, I’m sorry. I lo-“the line dies and Sammy is now bolt upright in bed. His worst fears realized, his anger real, his confusion multiplied.
Jack was there. Jack was stuck wherever Debbie had been as well.
But more importantly…he could hear the explosion and the screaming and sirens very faintly in the distance on the other end of the line.
Maybe he shouldn’t give up on his search after all.