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After the Grabber, Finney Blake didn't see much of the ghost boys. They popped up here and there, but he never really got to talk to them.
Especially Robin. He never got to see Robin.
It pained him more knowing Robin was there.
He got peeks of him every so often. His messy hair, parts stained and drenched in blood. His voice, talking and sometimes, ever so rarely, laughing.
That was the thing that hurt the most. Like he was intensionally avoiding him. Finney Blake missed his best friend, no matter what Gwen said, or how his dad acted, they couldn't change his pain or grief. He missed laying under the trees and talking, taking walks while locking pinkies, and even just sitting in class. At least then, he knew Robin was there. He was always there. That's what Robin was, he was a constant.
Was.
He got to learn more about the other boys though. Sometimes through run-in's he had with them, or getting the information from family and friends.
Griffin was an only child, his favorite color was blue. Denim blue to be specific. He had a single mother who worked two jobs, yet always made time to have Friday movie nights. He liked to bike around occasionally. He hated being alone.
Finney felt horrible for not knowing anything about him. He felt guilty for having to learn about him like this.
Billy had a younger sister, and a dog that he took nearly everywhere with him. The dog's name was Dottie. He had been the paperboy for about a few months, maybe a year, before it happened. His favorite class was biology. He hated being out late.
Finney felt like he was going to puke once he learned more about him. The guilt was starting to eat at him.
Vance was a mama's boy, and was pretty smart. He had a strong relationship with his mom and they would often cook together, even if Vance occasionally burned everything beyond saving. He loved reading and writing. He hated most men.
Finney felt like sobbing when he finally spoke to Vance's mom. She was so nice, and he finally could see why Vance was always so violent and hotheaded. He was trying to protect her.
Bruce enjoyed math and a good challenge. He loved baseball, which Finney already knew. Bruce had a younger sister who searched for him relentlessly. He liked watching people from afar. He hated bullies.
He cried himself to sleep that night, and nearly screamed until his vocal cords went out.
Robin. Robin with his pretty tan skin, and nice smile, and protective demeanor. Finney knew all there was to know about Robin, at least, he thought he did. It wasn't until he and Robin's mom finally sat down and spoke that Finney's whole world flipped.
Robin’s mom had found a notebook full of Robin’s scribbly handwriting, the same writing Finney had tried to correct him on so many times before. His mother had simply given the notebook to him and rubbed Finney’s shoulder.
She had read the first page she told him, and knew that it was for him, not her. She had all there was left of her son, and Finney had that now. It was only fair. She sent him home with a plate full of food, Enchiladas she had made special for him - Robin’s favorite, they both knew but didn’t dare to say out loud.
It was a reward Robin’s mother only made when he did something good. Like the time he helped his uncle fix the old truck or finally got an A on his English test. Special occasions.
Special occasions Robin wouldn’t be around for now.
Finney couldn't help but feel mad after.
He felt so many emotions. Anger, grief, sadness, and absolute love and adoration. Finney learned about them all in little ways, he tried his hardest.
He even left little things here and there for them. Popcorn and movies for Griffin. Papers and dog figurines for Billy. Baseballs and letters his sister made for Bruce. Chokers and flowers from his mom for Vance. Bandanas and enchiladas for Robin.
They all took and appreciated the gifts, all except Robin, who Finney never seemed to be able to get to. Not until two weeks later, when he finally saw the boy sitting underneath a tree, staring at him with a soft smile. Finney simply sat next to him and stared. At that moment, it all finally settled in.
Robin was dead. And so were four other boys. Four boys around his age. Four boys who saved him.
His Robin was dead. Never to be the same. Never going to school together again. No more watching movies together. No studying together. Nothing.
So, he let himself cry and cry underneath that tree, cry until he had no more energy to, but the tears never stopped.
In a way, he was still trapped in that basement. The place he lost half of himself. A place people lost their lives.
A place he never really came out of - alive yes, but not living.
After the basement, Finney didn't see much of the ghost boys. He saw them, glimpses here and there. Griffin and Billy seemed to be attached by the hip, he never saw one without the other. He figured it was their age that kept them close, seen first hand how Griffin would randomly lash out and become jittery. Finney figured it was all the development Griffin wasn’t allowed, it affected his head, how he reacted to things. And Billy knew how to keep him calm enough to come back from them.
The same could be said about Vance and Bruce, they stuck close. Mostly because they somewhat knew each other in life - perhaps the recognition had stuck somehow. They knew that they knew each other, just not how. At least that’s what Finny picked up.
Robin though, he seemed to always be missing.
Yet no matter how much it hurt, he knew it was for his own sanity. Robin loved him. In his own miserable, knowing, grief stricken way, Finney knew what Robin meant. The words he whispered to him under that tree. And he could live with it, sure.
In a way, Robin never left. He knew that. Even if he couldn't always see him, Robin was constantly by his side. And whenever he would want to doubt it, those words rung through his head.
Estoy a tu lado, y lo lograremos juntos mi amor.
I am by your side, and we will make it together my love.