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Finn walked the empty streets of North Denver, the street lights and moon being the only thing allowing him to see where he was going. He didn’t know what time it was, he didn’t want to. He walked slowly, bringing his cigarette up to his mouth as he did so. He felt the bitter taste of smoke enter his body and fill his lungs. He doesn’t cough at it, not anymore. He’d done this enough times to where the horrible feeling didn’t affect him. It didn’t stay for long, as he exhaled the smoke in a small ring.
Walking around at night while smoking was one of his favorite things to do now, especially since Gwen had gotten on him about it stinking up his room. Plus, moving around wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, especially today.
It was November 9th, 1981, exactly three years since Robin went missing; since Finn lost his best friend, the love of his life. He’d never gotten to tell Robin how he felt, even during that call in the basement. He’d been too scared of Robin hating him to say a word, and now it was too late. It didn’t help that Gwen was all buddy-buddy with Ernesto, who had the exact same face as his brother.
The alarm on his watch interrupted his thoughts. It was 11:11 PM.
Finn stopped walking, putting his hands together in front of him like a prayer, (though careful not to burn his hand on his cigarette,) and closed his eyes.
“I wish for one more chance to talk to Robin again.” He mumbled the words like he always did. At every 11:11, every eyelash, every birthday, and especially every shooting star.
The daily alarm on his watch that went off at every 11:11 helped him make sure he got every wish he could. Maybe, just maybe, if he wished for it enough times, it’d come true.
Sure, he knew that placing hope in something as small as a wish was dumb, but he could talk to ghosts through broken phones. What else could be possible? He needed some form of hope to cling onto, anyway.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
The sound of the pay phone on the street corner startles Finn, who opens his eyes and immediately runs to it; dropping the cigarette in his hand. The white “out of order” sign stares him dead in the face as he brings the phone to his ear, anticipating the best.
Nothing but the sound of static filled his ears. No voice was to be heard. Finn’s heart was pounding, anxiety flooding through him.
“Robin…?” He finally mumbles, voice breaking embarrassingly on each syllable.
No answer.
Who was he kidding? Each time he’d wish, a phone would ring, but there would be no one there. It was exhausting.
But just as Finn went to hang it up….
“...”
Someone breathed shakily on the other end, causing Finn to bring the phone back up to his ear.
The voice let out another anxious, shaky breath.
Finn would recognize that specific tone anywhere.
“Robin, oh God it is you!” Finn smiled, tears rolling down his face. “I’ve been waiting for this moment, amor.” He choked out the words and practiced pet-name in between sobs.
“Finn… I’m sorry.” Robin’s unsteady voice filled the receiver, the crying audible through how he spoke.
Before Finn could say another word… the receiver clicked. The static stopped.
“No, no, no. Robin, come on. Call again, please. I can’t lose you, not again, not when I was this close.” Finn collapsed, falling onto his hands and knees as tears streamed wildly down his reddened cheeks.
It was like re-living that phone call over and over again. Saying goodbye to him, but missing the chance to tell Robin that he loved him.
Finney felt like that kid in the basement again.
His hands hurt on the concrete flooring, still white-knuckling the phone in his right. He turned into a more comfortable position, making it to where he was now sitting down, clutching the phone near his heart.
“Please, Robin. I love you.” Finney said the words out loud for the first time, hoping Robin was there to hear it. Maybe that would convince him to pick up the phone again, to talk to Finney and let him hear his voice.
The entire phone seemed to be pulsating, handset included. The silence seemed so loud, no bugs or wind to be heard. His ears began to ring as well, making him flinch.
Everything in the experience screamed hesitation and want to pick up the phone, to call Finney again, but it came to an abrupt end when the ringing stopped. The phone sat still where it was attached to the metal framework.
Finney looked around a bit, trying to see anything out of the glass walls, but all he saw was darkness.
Until he looked closer.
In front of him, illuminated by a street light, was a shadowed figure with shoulder length hair and a slender body. One Finney had dreamed of since that exact day three years ago.
“Robin…” He mumbled, still sobbing as he stood up and faced the figure.
Finney doesn’t know how he could tell, but the figure smiled sadly, crying in itself. It slowly faded away, leaving only two bloody footprints on the concrete where it stood.
Crying even harder now, Finney collapsed back onto the floor, eyes squeezed shut.
He just wanted to see his love again, to actually talk to and have a conversation with him. Is that so bad? Why did Robin have to hang up, have to leave? Finney knows Robin wouldn’t do that, he would never. What made it so Robin just had to go?
Finney grabbed the necklace around his neck with his free hand.
Robin had given him that necklace, letting him know during his call where it was tucked away in the basement. Finney hadn’t taken it off since, he refused to.
His grip loosened on both the handset and necklace alike as the sobbing took his energy away, slowly causing him to lose consciousness in that dingy phone booth. Goodness knows he’d dream of Robin that night, of what could’ve been.
What should’ve been.