Chapter Text
Haven’t talked in a while but I saw a shitload of cops near your house so let me know if you’re cool.
Sean are you cool?
The messages have been coming in rapidly all day, though Sean hasn’t had the chance to check them. In his defense, he’s been a little preoccupied. His pocket has been buzzing for hours, and now that he’s no longer carrying an unconscious Daniel in his arms and they’re situated for the night, hidden underneath a highway bridge, Sean is finally granted the opportunity to check his messages.
Daniel eyes Sean’s phone, like he wants to ask to play games on it. But he must know there isn’t a fat chance in hell right now that Sean would let him onto his phone—especially not with all these messages coming in asking about him and everything that’s going on—because he stays quiet. Good. Sean is still too fucked up to deal with him right now. The fact that Daniel managed to stay asleep for most of the evening is nothing short of a godsend.
If Sean believed in God, that is. And he didn’t even before all of this, but especially after today, any hope his father may have held for him becoming a believer went out with him.
The downside to Daniel being asleep all day is that now he’s wide awake, and bored. And confused. He sits against the back wall of the bridge, hugging his knees to his chest and sighing dramatically, while Sean sits a few feet away, cross-legged and hunched over his phone.
“What are we doing out here, Sean?”
Lyla has sent him like a hundred messages, and it takes every ounce of strength in him not to cry in front of Daniel as he reads through them. Seeing how absolutely normal things were just a few short hours ago is a baseball to the face—a feeling he’s actually painfully familiar with from playing catch as a kid with...with Dad. It feels like an entirely different life, like he just finished watching a movie, and now he has to return to the real world, a world completely different from the fantasy he was escaping to moments before.
“Camping,” Sean answers Daniel.
“Under a bridge?” Daniel says. “Where’s our tent and sleeping bags? And where’s Dad?”
Sean’s chest tightens. Dad’s dead. “He...couldn’t make it.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know, Daniel!” Sean snaps. He swallows the lump in his throat, and pretends to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation as a cover for wiping his tears. “He just...can’t, okay?”
Daniel crosses his arms over his knees and rests his chin on them. “Okay, geez.”
Trying to ignore the pang of guilt in his stomach, Sean returns his attention to his phone. So many messages, so many people asking if he’s okay. It would be heartwarming, if Sean had a heart left to be warmed.
It’s really telling how Jenn Murphy’s texts go from flirtatious to formal in just a few messages. Sean can hardly believe he was ever into her. A mere six hours ago, Sean was pretty sure Jenn was into him too, and that he might actually stand a chance at finally getting to kiss a girl tonight.
It would be funny if it weren’t so fucking bullshit.
He scrolls past the texts from Eric, who is blissfully (maybe willfully) ignorant about the whole thing, and Sean is beyond jealous of how drunk and oblivious he gets to be right now. There’s a text from Ellery that just says, Sean call me. Please.
And then there’s one from an unknown number.
Haven’t talked in a while but I saw a shitload of cops near your house so let me know if you’re cool.
And then, from an hour later:
Sean are you cool?
It’s not actually an unknown number. The phone just doesn’t recognize it because Sean deleted it. Because he thought deleting the number would delete the memory.
But it turns out, memories can’t be deleted, only encrypted, and all it takes is the right key to unlock them again.
# # #
October in Washington gets brutal at night. Now that Sean’s heart isn’t thumping like a Misty Mice show, and the adrenaline has flushed itself out of his system, his body is finally starting to succumb to the harshness of the air. He’s shivering in just his hoodie. He gave Daniel the blanket, since the poor kid was out here in nothing but an open flannel and a light t-shirt. Still, Sean’s teeth are chattering, and he reaches for his beanie in his backpack, before realizing that he left it at home.
“Fuck!” Sean gasps, squeezing his eyes shut to keep the tears in, but they burn at the back of his eyelids. Just another thing he’s fucked up. If it weren’t for Daniel, Sean would let himself freeze to death out here.
Daniel has somehow managed to fall asleep, despite the cold, and the fact that he was ready to run a full marathon half an hour ago. But that’s good. Sean needed some time to himself. He’s been running all day with a nine-year-old strapped to his back, so he really needs this moment to just chill—pun so not intended.
But his phone goes off, proving once again that Sean can’t ever get what he wants. For a second, he considers ignoring it, because what if it’s him again? But the curiosity gets the better of him, and he’s beyond relieved to see it’s only from Lyla.
Sean...I can’t fucking sleep
can’t stop thinking about you
I need to know you’re ok
Ok. Right. Like Sean will ever be okay again. He clenches his hand into a fist and presses it to his taught lips, desperately holding back the sob that threatens to escape them.
I’m not ok Lyla my dad was shot, he finally sends back. I’m with Daniel we’re out of town.
omg what, Lyla responds.
what what what
SEAN
WHERE ARE YOU???
Lyla is freaking the fuck out. She has every right to be. Hell, the only reason Sean himself is so calm is because he has no other choice. If he cracks, he will break, and if he breaks, Daniel is left alone. Eventually, Sean is too exhausted—both mentally and physically—to reply, so he just shuts off his phone to conserve battery, and stuffs it in his backpack.
This cold is really fucking getting to him, so he places heis backpack next to Daniel, and uses it as a pillow to curl up next to him, doing his best not to wake him as he slides the blanket out from under him and pulls it over the both of them, wrapping them in an extra-large sized blanket burrito.
Despite swallowing his tears, Sean somehow manages to smile at the peaceful look on his brother’s sleeping face. He presses his forehead against Daniel’s, silently crying to himself, and whispers, “Good night, enano .”
# # #
Sean doesn’t sleep much. How can he? Every time he shuts his eyes, his dad’s lifeless face, that blank, opened-eyed stare gazes back at him like the image is tattooed on the inside of his eyelids. And when sleep finally does find him, it’s only short bouts, restless and dreamless, and he wakes feeling somehow more exhausted than the night before.
Once Daniel is awake, they take off down the side of the road. Daniel complains from the moment he opens his eyes—“I’m hungry. My feet hurt. I’m cold. Where’s Dad? When’s Dad gonna join us? How come Dad didn’t come?” Sean can barely take it anymore, so when, as the sky is beginning to darken, they come across a lone diner on the side of the road, Sean is inclined to think it’s a miracle.
Again, if he believed in any of that shit.
His phone has been surprisingly silent since a brief conversation with Lyla early in the morning. The battery is almost dead, so as they find their table, he uses the opportunity to take advantage of the electricity in the diner and charge his phone. The display lights up when he plugs it in, and once again a shot of fear surges through him at the thought of seeing that unknown number popping up again.
Sean still can’t believe he would try to reach him again, after all this time. Didn’t Sean tell him not to contact him? And even after everything...how can he still care?
“Sean, can we get milkshakes?” Daniel asks excitedly, pulling Sean out of his own black-hole mind.
“Uhh…” Sean looks down at the menu. Shit. $2.50 for a milkshake? It better be a big fucking milkshake if they’re charging that much. Sean pulls out his wallet. The $40 from Dad stares at him from the open flap.
Let’s see. Two milkshakes would be $5, plus our burgers. That’d end up being $12 and tax, plus a tip...That’s a lot of money.
But Sean looks back up at Daniel’s pleading face, and he looks so innocent and pure that Sean could almost cry. “Fine,” he relents. “Let’s each get one.”
Of course, Daniel goes for the chocolate one. Sean gets a vanilla, because after all of this, he could use something simple. And man, is it ever worth it. Maybe it’s because of how hungry he is, or how tired, but this is the sweetest, most delicious milkshake Sean has ever had in his entire life. He even steals a sip of Daniel’s Choco Latte, and it’s just as good.
As far as last meals go, this one was pretty good.
Last meals? Jesus, they’re not on death row.
Not yet, at least.
Daniel goes off to use the restroom after they eat—which is probably a good idea, since it’ll easily be another few hours before they find a place to camp out for the night. Sean should probably go, too, before they leave.
But before he can get up, his phone lights up on the counter, distracting him. It’s just the “charging-complete” notification, but Sean notices a message on the screen.
Okay, nope. Just two more messages from Lyla.
I’m with you Sean.
Please call me soon.
He’s about to open his phone and reply, just to let her know that he will call her when he gets the chance, but another message pops up, interrupting him.
Sent from an unknown number.
Look, I know you don’t want anything to do with me and I’ll respect that. But I still care about you, Sean. And it’s killing me not even knowing if you’re alive. Please.
Heat rises through Sean as he reads the message. The word “Unknown” next to the anonymous contact photo burns itself into Sean’s mind. Unknown number. Pft. He knows damn well who this number belongs to.
But the less time he spends thinking about Justin Michaels the better.
He deletes the message.