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1.
“Arthur,” His mother put a hand on his lap while her other hand took his tea cup and placed it on the counter. “Don’t cry over spilled tea. We can always refill it. It’s just an honest mistake, honey,”
“But mummy!” Arthur rubbed his eyes, sniffling. He frantically tried to brush the tea off from his lap, but the tea had already soaked through his clothes. “I made us look silly in front of the new people. They’re gonna hate me like they did back at home!” He felt the gazes of the strange men on him. Judging him.
She grabbed her coat from the rack and started to wipe it. “Shh… remember what I said, don't trauma dump. They’re not going to hate you, I promise, okay?” He mumbles incomprehensibly under his breath. Mummy ignored it, instead she looked at the one of the funny named men and asked, “Darling, can you get more tea for us, please?”
The silent man (What was his name? Wind or something?) nodded. He walked over to them and poured tea into their cups with a subtle smile. Something about the way he looked and smiled at mummy felt familiar. Arthur couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
Mummy returned that smile with the same amount of familiarity, “Thank you.” She gave his miniature cup back to him. He clutched it tightly, tracing the engraved flowers on it. He didn’t feel like drinking anymore.
Arthur let a tear drop into his freshly-made tea.
—
2.
Arthur missed his mummy.
God, he couldn’t remember anything about her. His memories of everything before the maze were distorted and blurry. It hurt to remember. He didn’t know if that was an emotional thing or some weird punishment from the maze. Those precious moments with his mother were fading and couldn’t do a single thing about it. He could not lose the one single element keeping him going, even if it hurt to think about.
He buried his head in his hands.
How long had it been anyway? He checked his left sleeve. Each tally represented– or was supposed to represent– a single day. Time was a wonky thing in the maze.
2922.
That was how many days he had been here. Almost three thousand days. Eight years. That’s double the age of when he got here. Arthur was almost a grown man now and that scared him. He didn’t want to grow up without his mummy or daddy by his side. The idea of growing up alone was frightening, sure, but it seemed so close to reality at this point.
He took a deep breath in.
He had to keep going. For her. For his mummy. For– what was her name?
He stopped right in his tracks. What was her name? He searched his head for anything. For the slightest clue of her name. He thought back to every single memory, every single moment. There were moments where her name should have been used. It just wasn’t there. It dawned on him.
He had forgotten his own mother’s name.
Arthur felt the tears prick his eyes. What kind of son forgets his mother’s name? He swallowed a sob. He had to stop thinking about this. The growing pain in his chest was too much. He could barely walk. He was leaning on a nearby wall for stability.
He quickly wiped the rapidly falling tears on his sleeve, smudging the ink. He couldn’t cry. He had a mission to do.
—
3.
Arthur was sitting and staring at the ground, holding back tears. He needed a fucking break after running around the maze for so long. He just couldn’t though. He was glued to the ground. He had to find his mum if it was the last thing he would do, but he was so exhausted.
Jimmy, his strange half-creature half-man friend, took a seat beside him, “You okay, mate?”
“Not really,” He took another shot of vodka. How the hell did Jimmy find vodka in the first place? It didn’t matter. He was going to get drunk off it anyways. Jimmy found a bottle of liquid in the maze, and yet, Arthur couldn’t find a whole entire person.
“What’s the matter? Talk to me, kid,” He wasn’t a kid anymore though. He was a grown man and men don’t cry do they? Men don’t trauma dump either. Remember, men don't trauma dump. Don’t fold. Men don’t–
“I miss my mummy.” He blurted out, tears falling down his face. Damn it.
“And I miss my husband. You’re not alone.”
That one simple sentence completely destroyed him. It was comforting, yes, but it made him cry harder. He wasn’t alone anymore. He had someone to talk to after fifteen years alone, searching for anyone. Jimmy still wasn’t his mother and nothing could change that. It was nice to have someone that would look out for him.
“There, there,” Jimmy patted his back and pulled him into a hug. It’s been ages since he’s gotten a hug or any physical affection for the matter. He melted into it. It reminded him of how she would hold him. “It’ll be alright. Don’t cry. It’ll be okay.”
Arthur cried until he fell asleep.
—
+1
His mummy’s right in front of him, right where he last saw her. She looks the same as he remembered too. Down to her clothes. His daddy’s here with him. He was so blind before. How could not see that the mute man was his father? They look so alike. His family is finally back together. He can not believe it.
Arthur doesn’t even know what to do. He’s always dreamed of this moment and yet no words come out of his mouth. He starts to cry again. Not out of sadness or longing, but out of joy which is an even more stupid reason to cry, but he can’t help it. He would always fold for her.
They both stare at him, mouth agape. Do they even recognize their little boy? He’s changed so much. He isn’t their eight year old boy anymore. Do they still love him the same?
Susanna slowly approaches him with her arms out. He remembers now, Susanna is her name and what a lovely name it is. How could he forget such a thing? “Don’t cry, Arthur. It’s me. I’m right here,” She whispers into his ear, wrapping her arms around him.
Arthur melts into it, pulling her closer. He’s desperate for it. For warmth. For her presence. She’s so small compared to him now. When did he get so tall? He places his head on her shoulder and cries into it.
He can hear Susanna tear up a little too. What a weird sight to see. She never cried. She always stood strong for him. He tried to be strong for her too. They can be vulnerable together.
“Come here, Henry,” She demands. It wasn’t harsh or blunt like how she usually speaks. It was soft. He hesitantly nods, walking over to them slowly. “I told you to come here, darling” She yanks him into the hug and giggles, but it’s one of those laughs that breaks through sobs.
They hold each other close as Arthur’s consciousness drifts away, he can’t help, but feel content.