no rest for the wicked.

The last time Sam had seen the periodical cicadas in Wicked’s Rest was when she was fifteen. She had been warned, by her parents, not to go out at night. And, while Sam was fond of all creatures in their own way, the cicadas had scared her greatly. Their massive size and bearing witness to what would happen when a two foot bug smacked you in the face first hand had left her confined to her house, rarely going out unless Zach could coax her out. But she was an adult now with a dog that had needs, and one of those needs was food, and unfortunately for her she had realized he was out of kibble at the most inopportune time with no chance of an Amazon save.

“Scout, you’re one lucky dog, you know that?” Opting to leave him knowing the last time she had tried to take him on a walk had resulted in him trying to consume one while it was in mid-flight and low to the ground. The rest of the night was spent cleaning the cicada off of him with one good arm, since her cast removal had been delayed thanks to a trip down the stairs. The universe really did have it out for her. So this evening, she would venture out alone, cautiously and to the closest store in town that sold any kind of dog food.

“Yes, I realize I look like an idiot wearing a motorcycle helmet when I’m just walking to the store, but those motherfuckers are huge, and I’m not taking any chances.” The dog looked at her with his head cocked to the side as Sam made her way out of the apartment and cautiously down the steps and out the back door.

The sound of the bugs, though quieter because the sun was already setting, could be heard for miles, as Sam hauled ass down the sidewalk towards the nearest grocery store. There had still been a few people milling about, but for the most part the streets had become empty. However, Sam knew that it was imperative to stay away from street lamps, which didn’t make life in Wicked’s Rest feel any more safe. There had been things in the dark that she had preferred to avoid, but the two foot cicadas seem to be making that impossible. However, before she had to face that worry, the 5’3” woman found herself at her destination, where she slipped inside and made a beeline for the dog food.

—

Apparently, this was an emergency. At least that was what Clary had tried to convince Memphis. Tonight was movie night. Not for him, of course. He wasn’t invited. It was movie night between Clary and her gaming friends. They were definitely watching something that wasn’t Twilight. Memphis had asked, not sure why that was the first and only movie that seemed to come to mind for him. But what was important was that every movie night the group shared the same collection of snacks to simulate them being together in person. Memphis tried to remind her that most of her gaming friends went to her school and they could be in person, but that apparently wasn’t fair to the others. At least she cared about equality. 

Now Memphis was at the grocery store, with a text from Clary with exactly what she needed. Kettle corn, sour patch kids, mountain dew and whoppers. A truly concerning assortment of junk food that should try to put a stop to, if it wouldn’t be completely hypocritical of him to do so. The healthiest he ever ate was when coworkers at the fire station made dinner. It wasn’t that Memphis was bad at cooking, on the contrary he had actually gotten pretty good at it between his years away at medical school and working at the station. He just never had the time. So instead of sending a snarky text back, he chose to just grab the awful assortment of snacks. He roamed around a bit, wanting to make her sweat on the timing. He passed the pet aisle, eyeing the assortment of toys. Clary and him had both had the pet conversation multiple times. Both love the idea in theory more than practice. Even the twelve year old recognized neither of them had the free time to take care of any pet, really. Even a cat was stretching it. Maybe a hamster. He absent mindedly looked through the toys before a person came, donned in a motorcycle helmet. He stared at her curiously, deciding the smartest thing to do would be to not comment on it considering it wasn’t his business. Then again, Memphis never claimed to be exceedingly smart. “I feel like most people choose to leave that with their motorcycles, right? Isn’t vision a little… impaired?”

—

Sam’s cheeks were bright red, but luckily the helmet had hidden her embarrassment. She knew she looked odd walking around with a helmet on, but taking the time to take it off and put it right back on took too much effort, when she was on a hunt to get her stuff and get back home. Cicadas and the people staring at her and talking be damned. She was on a mission. However, her train of thought was cut short when she heard the words, muffled as they were through the helmet, directed at her.

“Huh?” Turning her head, she looked over to see the man standing next to her. Sam had started to answer his question, until she realized the face shield was still down, “Sorry, about that? What did you say?” She let her eyes shift back over to the dog food. Of course they were out of Scout’s kind, and the decision on what he may or may not like was made even harder by the multitude of options, “I swear, you come in for one thing and they’re always out of it, but when you don’t need it, they have tons of it.” She sighed before looking back over to the man next to her.

—

The stranger did not hear Memphis originally, which gave him the opportunity to back out and not ask the question. He didn’t take his chance though, choosing to double down for some reason. “I asked if the helmet impaired your vision?” he pointed to his own head despite being unobscured by anything other than a snapback. He didn’t own a motorcycle, but he was still pretty sure most people didn’t wear the helmets in the store with them. Unless they were planning on robbing the place. If she did, Memphis didn’t want anything to do with that. “Yeah I’ve heard they actually plan it that way. Figures out what the regulars alway come in to buy and then hide it in the back so you’re forced to buy the most expensive stuff.” That was a complete lie that Memphis completely pulled out of nowhere. Though he liked to see it as more of a joke than a lie. Something to keep the conversation going. “Your dog must be super picky about their food I guess?”

—

“Oh! Uh, yeah. I’m pretty sure I knocked over a display rack when I first came in.” Sam had hit something, but her panic of being attacked by cicadas had far outweighed wrecking the store, which she kind of felt bad about, if it had indeed happened. “And I know you’re probably thinking I look ridiculous, because I’m well aware that I do, but look, Man, there are cicadas out there the size of small dogs, and I’ve heard in great numbers they can do bad things. I’m just trying to give myself a fighting chance. And all for what? So my dog eats tonight.” She looked through the bags before settling on Caesar's Filet Mignon, and turning her attention back to the guy next to her, “Steak. It looks like he’s getting steak for dinner. What about you? Are you here for a picky dog or cat?”

—

Memphis couldn’t help but laugh at the image of her running into some display and pretending like it never happened. At least he had that imagery as a memory of his free night wasted grocery shopping for his sister. “I wasn’t going to say that at all” Memphis defended himself before, trying to feign innocence before a smirk escaped onto his face, “I might have thought it, but I’d never actually say it.” The cicadas made him pause. This wasn’t the first time he had heard that. Honestly, he had happily accepted that it was just a bug hater that over exaggerated. Logically, that was still probably the explanation. “You’re not the first person to talk about these giant cicadas? How come I haven’t seen these things?” If she truly was afraid for her life, he was impressed by her dedication to the dog. Not only risking her life, but then choosing steak too? He was eating better than Memphis was tonight for sure. His plan was to bum some of the popcorn from Clary. “Worse, actually. A pre-teen.” Memphis grimaced before showing off the assortment of junk food he had collected. “My sister has demanded snacks. And I’m torturing her by prolonging my team here looking at toys for the pet I don’t have time to take care of. Clearly, very busy.” But he supposed that time had now come and passed. “But I should probably get back to her and you should probably get that steak safely home to your dog.”

—

If Sam saw this guy around town, she knew that tonight had cemented this event into his brain, and that she’d probably never live it down. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and tonight was one of those times, “I think the expression on your face says otherwise.” She couldn’t help but laugh. It was a silly notion to go into a store with a motorcycle helmet, but fate had not been kind to her recently, “That doesn’t surprise me that I’m not the only person. But I can almost guarantee you that when the sun sets completely and all the streetlights come on, you’ll finally get to experience what everyone is talking about.” In fact, as Sam glanced over towards the sliding doors leading into the store, she noticed the sun was almost gone. The massive bugs would be out soon.

But thankfully the conversation had continued, which had led to a well needed distraction, “Oh wow. Yeah, that is worse.” She leaned over and looked into the basket he had, “Looks like pre-teens are pickier than dogs.” Sam glanced back at the toys near them, “I think the toy with the loudest squeaker might be a good choice, you know, so any time she starts to backtalk you, you can just give Mr. Ducky there a good firm squeak to drown out the noise.” Sam had hoped the joke hadn’t offended him. She knew nothing about pre-teens, except her time spent as one. “I think you’re right. Otherwise, you’re going to have a group of angry girls, and I’m gonna have a frustrated dog.” Just before Sam could say something else, a loud buzzing noise caught her attention, and when she realized what it was, she looked over to find several large cicadas clinging to the glass windows at the front of the store, “Well Mr. Never Seen A Wicked’s Rest Cicada…There you go.” Sam’s voice held a slight panic as she looked down at the bag of dog food in her hands and then back up at him, just before she heard the sound of shattering glass.

—

“Well, expressions were never part of the deal.” Memphis shrugged. It was all about loopholes, apparently. He could keep his word with the power of loopholes. “I’d actually be perfectly fine staying in the metaphorical dark, but literal light on this one. I have absolutely no interest in seeing those things for myself.” He still wasn’t convinced those things were even real. It was a lot easier to keep believing that if he never saw one. 

Memphis grabbed the toy off the rack and studied the thing, “Honestly you have me seriously considering it.” If nothing else but the joy of getting to annoy his sister. Unfortunately, he knew that eventually he’d forget about the toy and she wouldn’t. And turnabout was fair play after all, so he’d only live to regret the purchase, “But it’ll have to wait for another time.” with a sigh, he hung the toy back on the rack and went to follow his new friend towards the check out. He almost crashed into her when she stopped, glancing around her to follow her gaze. “What do you me-” he paused when he saw them at the door. Well, fuck. Those were actually large ass cicadas. No hyperbole or seeing the wrong thing. He owed like ten people an apology. “What the actual hell?” Memphis questioned, tilting his head to try to study the creatures at a different angle. As if this new angle would somehow change what he was seeing. He wasn’t really sure how to react? The fear was there, but it was overpowered by the shock. People really saw this shit and then casually went on with their night? How were they even supposed to leave the store?

Luckily, or rather unluckily, the cicadas solved that problem for them. It only took a small group piled up against the glass door to shatter it completely and soon the creatures were spilling into the front entrance of the store. “You have got to be kidding me.” Memphis muttered under his breath, but it was hard to make out the words through his shaking. He didn’t like danger. Helping people who were in it was one thing, but he didn’t like being there himself. “These things are like terrifying, but harmless right?” he quickly asked the girl, praying for an answer he actually liked. “Please lie to me right now.”

—

“Uh yeah. If I hadn’t seen them years ago, I wouldn’t have believed they were real either. But once you see a bug that big, you never forget it.” It was true. Sam had nightmares after she had first experienced the massive bugs. And it took everything within her to leave the house. And, now, here she was faced with the damn things again.

“Really?” Sam laughed. “It’s just the retaliation you have to be careful of.” She liked this guy. He was funny. And watching him contemplate the toy, even if that’s all it had been, had made her like him even more. This was one of those things that Zach would have highly approved of. Annoying someone just because it was fun. But she could understand the hesitation. Retaliation with jokes could be harsh if you weren’t prepared for it. She had learned this first hand, when her best friend had put blue hair dye in her shampoo bottle once. Joke was on him though, because it actually turned out looking great.

But with the pair reaching the front and all chaos breaking out, it was like their past conversation no longer mattered. And as Sam watched the bugs filing in through the now shattered front door, she couldn’t help but pause. The fear was already welling up in her, and though she had wanted her new friend to at least see them, she hadn’t expected this to happen. Immediately, she let the dog food fall to the floor and without hesitating anymore, pulled the face shield back down over her head, before looking over at the guy next to her, “They’re harmless when they’re alone, but this many…I’ve heard stories of them crushing people to death…” She wanted to lie. Wanted to tell them this wasn’t real, but before she could say anything else, Sam noticed one flying immediately past them, up towards the fluorescent light hanging above.

Instinctively Sam screamed and dropped to the floor, even though the bug hadn’t even touched her. Maybe if she army crawled she could make it out, but that plan went out the door as more Cicadas came flying in, “What do we do? I don’t know what to do?!” Her heart pounded swiftly in her chest as she heard more screams around the store erupt and their loud buzzing filling the enclosed space.

—

Memphis was vaguely aware that the stranger had asked him what they should be doing right now. Though her voice felt far off. His focus was entirely on the impossibly large insects ahead of him. Ones that were huddling around the entrance and may spot them soon. Cicadas weren’t violent insects, so logic suggested these weren’t either. Though logic seemed to fly out the window right about now, unlike the cicadas who seemed disinterested in flying away. “Crushing people. Right.” He was pretty sure she had answered that question long ago, but he was still slowly processing everything. “Um. A lot of cicadas are attracted to light and heat. Makes sense why they’d all gather around the door to a store then. So like, really all we should have to do is wait until they’re away from the door and sneak back out.” Sounded simple enough, right?

Their simple and clear plan was immediately disrupted when the group seemed to spot the two and start crawling across the floor down the dog aisle. Either they also really needed some dog food, or their closest source of heat was two humans. “First we run though!” Memphis suggested, patting frantically at the helmet clad woman’s shoulder. He turned in a panic, running towards the end of the aisle and making a sharp right, the exact opposite direction as his partner. “Shit!” Memphis yelled, turning to run back towards her until he realized the cicada would beat him to her. Already split up, like an idiot. He knew he wouldn’t survive a horror movie. He decided to keep going, turning down another aisle and rushing down it, hearing the cicadas scurrying behind. He skidded to a stop when the end of the aisle was blocked by more. This had to be a fucking joke. He glanced behind him, the cicadas still inching closer, now from both directions. He probably wouldn’t die if they got close right? He could probably fight a couple off and run past him? Find the girl and get out? Fear won out though. He didn’t want to touch one of those things at all if he didn’t have to. Last minute, he chose the third exit option, turning towards the shelves of the aisle and grabbing onto them and pulling himself up. “I hate my life. I hate my life.” He climbed as fast as he could, reaching the top and trying to plan his next move when his foot got caught on the shelf and forced him to slip forward. His momentum pushed him over the top of the shelf, flipping his body around as he fell to the ground in the aisle next to him. A sharp pain shot up through his body as his back cracked against the linoleum floors of the store. “Fuck me.”

—

All Sam heard from the man was to run. Nothing else mattered in that moment as she watched the giant bugs start to move towards them and scrambling to her feet, she took his advice. Run! Veering left at the end of the aisle she could’ve sworn he had been behind her, but when she slowed down to look, he wasn’t there, and instead, Sam was met with a giant cicada and it’s huge red eyes crawling towards her, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!!!” Her scream had been drowned out by the massive buzzing of all the bugs that had managed to wreak havoc all over the store now.

Quickly turning back around and continuing in the direction furthest away from her new friend, Sam found herself somehow back in the produce department where it seemed to be cicada central. As she put on the breaks and her shoes squeaked on the shiny floor, Sam froze in fear. All the bugs she had currently been trying to escape had found the fruits and veggies all ripe for the sucking, and that’s just what they were doing…sucking out the sweet juices of oranges, apples, and anything else that seemed like a delicious meal.

Deciding this wasn’t the place to be, Sam slowly started to back up trying not to alert the bugs to her presence, but she hadn’t noticed the cicada that had crawled up behind her and when she almost stepped on it, the creature let out a loud scream, which caused her to quickly turn around. Her warm brown eyes focused on its blood red eyes with tiny black dots in the middle left the two in a brief staring contest, before she screamed bloody murder and it started screaming again in return, until Sam took off running as fast as she could in another direction occasionally looking back, until she turned her head, still limited in view by the helmet and smacked hard into something causing her to fall backwards and hit the ground with a thud and an oof.

—

The pain in Memphis’ back was strong, but not debilitating. He could move, he just decided to risk a few seconds not moving. But for obvious reasons, he couldn’t lay there forever. He started with poking an eye open, then slowly lifting his head to make sure the aisle was clear of creatures. Thankfully, it was. He had somehow found his way back into the dog food aisle. Finally, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, ignoring the throbbing pain. He tried some stretches to test his mobility. It all felt sore, but he could still move. He didn’t think anything was broken, at least. He swiveled around so that he was on his knees and then used the shelves as leverage to help pull himself back up to his feet. Not that he should ever trust those shelves again. Traitors. 

All Memphis knew was that he needed to get out of here. But before he could make a run for it, he needed to know if the woman had escaped. He began slowly making his way down the aisle partly to minimize the pain, but mostly to try to avoid attracting the bug’s attention. He never really considered whether insects had object permanence, but really hoped in this case that they did. As far as those bugs in the next aisle should know, Memphis was a fleeting memory. But one that was only a few feet away with a thin sheet of metal separating them. For all he knew, they were making their way down the aisle in the same direction and the two would run into each other at the end. Desperately wishing to avoid that, he needed to try to lean the odds in his favor. He tiptoed back to the dog toys, finding a toy that he knew made a lot of noise and plucking it off the shelf carefully. For all he knew, cicadas didn’t care about noise at all and would completely ignore the thing. But right now it was the only idea he had. He winded his arm back, ignoring the pain in his shoulder blades from the impact and chucked the toy down the aisle. The toy met the ground with a loud thudding noise and began rolling, making noises across the floor. Stupid babble ball. Hoping that did the trick, Memphis peaked around the corner and spotted a large group of them currently distracted by the produce section. Perfect. He glanced around until he spotted the other person, currently on her back on the floor. What a coincidence.

Crawling towards the stranger, Memphis first did an initial check to make sure she wasn’t bleeding or had any obvious injuries. The helmet made it a bit difficult to determine if the woman was conscious, though clearly she had had the right idea to bring protection. He was not quite as sure about its effectiveness. “Funny, I looked just like this like two minutes ago. Minus the helmet.” For some reason, Memphis was convinced making a joke would help keep him calm. He liked doing it while responding to calls, so why not now? He wasn’t sure it was working; on him or the woman. “We should really get out of here. Maybe we can make our escape while they’re distracted by the food?”

—

Sam hadn’t expected the man to still be in the store, so when he came crawling over to her and said something, she jumped slightly. Turning her head, she looked to him before reluctantly raising the face shield on her helmet again, so they could communicate better, “Apparently, we’re not the only ones.” She motioned down the aisle they were currently at the very end of to one of the store clerks who was huddling near the freezers in the fetal position, before looking back at her new friend. “But I like your idea. I’m all for crawling by the way. Just scurrying out of here and never fucking looking back.”

Sam slowly and cautiously rolled over onto her side, before sitting up, “I’m Sam, by the way. You know, just in case I become cicada food on the way out. Tell my parents and dog I loved them.” She was partly joking, but partly serious. She was sure they would make it out. Not 100% sure, but maybe like 96.2% judging by the way those cicadas were going to town on the fruit and veggie section. “If you want to lead the way, I’ll gladly follow this time, so we don’t get split up again.” The last time had resulted in disaster. This time, she wasn’t taking any chances.

—

If Memphis wasn’t convinced they would be killed by giant bugs, he might actually laugh at the pure comedy that was the woman opening her biker helmet to speak to him. He couldn’t make this shit up. And right now, he was pretty desperate to find the humor in absolutely anything if it meant distracting himself from the unrivaled amount of fear and dread he felt. “Crawling is a great idea. Let’s try that this time.” Memphis nodded, already putting the motion in practice, “Clearly the two of us can’t be trusted to stay upright.” Since somehow both of them had ended up laid out on the floor. 

“Sam. So nice to meet you. Always nice to make friends in such fun and calm environments.” Admittedly, the only ones causing chaos here were Memphis and Sam. The cicadas started the chaos by breaking the glass, but they had mostly been minding their own business since. They were the two idiots running and yelling and falling. “I’m Memphis. I’ll pass the message along, but if I die I think legally you’re now in charge of my little sister. I think that’s how next of kin works.” 

On one hand, Memphis told himself to keep talking. It helped ground him and stop him from completely freaking out. On the other hand, maybe shutting up could be good to not attract insect attention. He wasn’t sure he had the best answer. But he did have an idea at least. “I bet there’s a back entrance to the store. Somewhere to take trash out. Maybe we swing by, grab that poor employee currently freezing to death and crawl into the back. Escape through there?”

—

What had Sam’s life become? One minute you’re minding your own business just trying to shop for dog food, and the next, you’re crawling around on the floor like you’re under attack just trying to survive bugs that were easily big enough to suffocate you, “Thanks, every now and then I have one. But it’s mostly when my life is being threatened by the biggest bugs known to man. Australian spiders ain’t got nothing on these motherfuckers.” She looked around cautiously hoping they didn’t hear her, but noticed the man was already starting to crawl, “Shit. We’re moving. Okay.”

Following along slowly, Sam winced slightly at the hard linoleum that her knees did not like, “Right? It’s nice to meet you too, Memphis. I’m sure the cicadas are glad to make your acquaintance as well.” About that time, she heard a cicada scream somewhere in the distance. “See? And next of kin? I don’t know about that. Maybe I’ll just fight the cicada instead. I’m not equipped to handle teenage girls. I can barely handle myself.” The thought made her shudder.

As she continued to crawl, she let her eyes scan the store. It looked like a zombie apocalypse. Lights were blinking and some dangled from the ceiling. The massive bugs were planted around either sucking on fruit juice or chirping their overly loud mating call hoping to make the night even more special than it already was, and if Sam didn’t put her focus back on Memphis, she was sure she was going to lose her mind, “I think that sounds like the best idea of the night. You keep leading, and I’ll keep following despite how much my knees hate me right now.”

—

Okay, the two had a plan. Whether the plan was actually good or not was irrelevant at this point. Because having a plan at all was better than not having one. That logic made sense to Memphis. He glanced behind him to ensure that Sam was following behind. The sound of them crawling across the floor was completely muffled by the chirping and slurping noises of the bugs. An otherwise terrifying noise that he was actually thankful for at this moment. Unsurprisingly, Sam didn’t love the idea of adopting his little sister. And she hadn’t even met the girl yet. “You’re preaching to the choir here. Is it sad I actually would rather hang out with these dudes sucking fruit then go back home and tell my sister I forgot her sour patch kids? It’s pathetic.” It was a bit of an exaggeration, sure. But there was some truth to it. How the hell was he even supposed to begin explaining that he couldn’t get her snacks because giant bugs tried to kill him?

They scooted their way across the floor and back to the freezers. At the end of the aisle were the coolers holding the milk and creamer. Behind those? A direct path to the stockroom. That’s where they needed to go. He stopped in front of the employee on their way back, asking the man if he was okay. He looked scared shitless, like a deer in headlights, staring ahead and silent. For some reason, he took Memphis’ question as an invitation and began very vocally panicking. Memphis could only hear a split second of loud, incoherent babbling before he lifted his arm and planted his palm over the man’s mouth, making a loud shushing noise. “Yeah dude, same. But maybe let’s not draw any unwelcome attention, okay? Let’s get out of here and then freak out. Like reasonable people. ‘Kay?” He kept the man’s mouth covered until the clerk nodded in agreement. Memphis pulled his hand away in a silent thumbs up and then started crawling again until he got to the back where the door to the milk was. No cicadas in sight at least. Maybe they didn’t like the heat? “Okay let’s pull out this milk and then push the shelves out and we can crawl right back into the stock room.” 

—

Sam continued to crawl like a woman on a mission. She was going to get out of here and away from these damn things no matter what. She had a dog to get back home to, a dog who was getting Wendy’s chicken nuggets for dinner instead of damn expensive kibble tonight. He was probably howling at this point looking for her and his food, and it kind of broke her heart; despite being in the middle of a war with cicadas, “Hey, man, I’ve gotta return to my dog who is probably aiming to eat me alive when I get home. Just do what I’ve got planned…Wendy’s. Scout’s getting a ten piece nugget for dinner. I’m sure those girls love Frostys.” Her mind went back to Lil and the ghost in the Frosty machine. What a day that was.

As they came upon the man huddling up, Sam kept watch while Memphis talked to him. It was the franticness that sent Sam into a frenzy trying, along with Memphis, to shut him up, and when he finally did and they were all in agreement to the plan, Sam gave one last glance towards the cicadas and started moving again, until they reached their destination. It was like a heaviness in the cicada filled air had somewhat lifted, and slowly opening up the door to the cooler, the young woman began quietly, but quickly pulling milk out and setting it next to the other coolers, “We might actually make it out of here alive…” She continued to work, but as she shifted her weight and leaned to put another carton down, she noticed a reflection in the door, “Shit, shit, shit…guys we got company…” Motioning her head towards the group of bugs slowly skittering towards them, red beady eyes trained on the three of them, Sam started clearing out the cooler a little faster.

—

“Wendy’s actually sounds pretty good.” Memphis nodded, ready to accept this alternate plan. Clary couldn’t stay mad at him with a frosty in hand, right? “Group Wendy’s trip?” he raised his eyebrows suggestively despite the fact that neither Sam nor the clerk was facing him to see it. He did glance back at the two, the clerk staying completely silent and staring at the two with wide eyes. “Is that a no?” In his defense, both Memphis and Sam had told him to shut up and not speak half an aisle again. A bit hypocritical considering the two of them couldn’t seem to stop mumbling. “I’ll take that as a no.”

Together, the three reached the milk and waited as Sam quietly pulled it open. They began pulling milk out, gently setting it on the floor before pulling out the next in an assembly line of sorts. “Please don’t jinx us.” Memphis warned, when Sam made a comment about making it out alive. Sure enough, moments later she spoke again in a panic, directing their attention to a group of cicadas that were moving towards them. “You totally jinxed us.” Memphis whined, moving faster as he pulled the milk out. He eventually took a more hostile approach and grabbed the carton with both hands, pulling it back behind his shoulder before chucking it towards the creatures. It didn’t quite make it to the bugs, but the impact caused it to pop open with a loud crack and milk shot out towards the bugs who all hissed and moved away as if the shit were holy water. Either milk was secretly their kryptonite or, more likely, they didn’t like random liquids being thrown at them. 

When a few of the shelves were empty, Memphis repositioned himself so he was on his back and used the leverage to kick out at the shelves, giving three or four solid ones before the bottom shelf finally snapped. He did it again for the second from the bottom, then the third. But they didn’t have time left for more. “Okay, good enough. Limbo and let’s go!” he yelled, motioning to Sam to crawl first.

—

Their mission had taken a turn with the bugs finding them, but Memphis had it all under control. His chucking of the milk to smashing out the bottom shelves with his feet made Sam grateful they had found each other once again. She couldn’t have gotten this far without him (Okay, she probably could, but it would’ve involved her screaming the entire way to the front door hoping and praying the things didn’t surround her and take her down).

Looking at the bugs and then at the other two men, Sam slid head first into the cooler, but when her head got stuck and she couldn’t push herself any further, she realized the helmet was going to have to finally come off. Oh how she shuddered to think she was going to have to go on without the thing that had kept her safe this entire time, but if they wanted to get out, she would have to be brave and make like Elsa and let it go.

As Sam wiggled free with a grunt, she looked to both Memphis and the store clerk and then the bugs again, noticing they had made it past the milk, all except a dinky looking one that was actually slurping up the uddery goodness with its attached straw, “That one must really need his daily calcium…” Sam stared at it for a minuted before realizing the others were getting dangerously close and without any further hesitation, she yanked off the helmet and threw it as hard as she could at the group of bugs inching closer, managing to scatter them and give the three of them little extra time as she shimmied her way into the cooler and out the back, “Memphis…and…guy who’s name I don’t know!!! Come on!!!!”

— 

Memphis actually almost laughed at the calcium content. If he wasn’t busy being terrified a bug would smother him to death he’d definitely let out a solid guffaw. But right now, there were more important things to consider. Like not being a bug mattress. Shockingly, Sam abandoned the helmet and tossed it towards the bug, working as a short distraction. Abandoning her helmet for them? Truly a heroic gesture. “I feel like you just lost a part of you.” Memphis sighed with a quick hand to heart pat. 

Sam had squeezed through and now they needed to pick up the pace. Quickly. “Like she said, time to go dude!” Memphis motioned toward the man who finally decided to speak to add in a “My name’s Mike!” as if answering Sam’s question. As if that was what was important right now.  Memphis quickly scrunched his nose at the man, “Dude, is now the time? Please just go.” Mike finally squeezed through and Memphis followed through last, halfway under the dip before he felt something weighing down his legs. He peeked through the shelves and saw a bug weighing down his leg. Memphis did the most level headed thing he could think of, scream. He started yelling, flailing his arms around until he reached a gallon of milk on one of the higher shelves and found the handle. He grabbed onto it and pulled it forward, smacking into the bug and forcing it off of him so he could finish crawling through, reaching forward past the shelves to pull the door closed. “Gotta go!”

— 

Sam watched frantically as Memphis and…what did he say his name was? Mike? Proceeded to make their way through the cooler. They were almost home free, until she peered through the glass to find that one of the cicadas had landed on Memphis’s leg. Frantic, Sam was trying to figure out how to help knowing how fast these creepy things could multiply and start to invade their safe space. But it seemed Memphis had it under control, and before long he had managed to climb through the rest of the way, shutting the cooler door in the process.

The buzzing sound out in the store was loud, but seemed more muffled and somewhat drowned out in the cooler thanks to the fans blowing down cold air. But Sam would gladly take cold over cicadas any day! Now, all that was left was exiting through the back door, and they’d be free. Cicadas outdoors wouldn’t be anything compared to battling a store full, “We made it!!! We’re safe!!! Mike, where’s the door?” She turned to the man waiting for his answer, a grin spread across her flushed face from the cool air that was coming down from the ceiling.

—

“It’s this way” the man, allegedly Mike, noted dryly as he started to lead the two through the quiet stockroom. Memphis followed closely behind, turning to Sam to add “It’s like he’s not happy to be here with us or something.” In this false safety, some of the color and humor found its way back into Memphis’ voice. Even as he made jokes before, they had been caked in a layer of fear and anxiety. A lot of that was gone now. Or at least hidden just beneath the surface. He was pretty sure if any bug jump scared them now he might actually leap through his skin and turn into a Halloween decoration. 

“I can’t believe those bugs were actually real. How the hell had I never seen one before?” Memphis questioned, though obviously he couldn’t expect an answer from either of them. His best guess? Weaponized ignorance. There were a lot of things about the town Memphis was willing to overlook and ignore if it meant keeping his sanity. Right now, whatever remained of it was being sapped by the ghosts of his dead relatives. It didn’t leave a lot of room for new, unknown horrors. “Outrunning those bugs was exhausting. Do you think Wendy’s does a ninety piece nugget?”

—

Sam’s eyes narrowed when Mike spoke up. Just two seconds ago the man had been acting like the sky was falling. Huddled next to freezers in a fetal position having given up, and now? She shifted her gaze to Memphis and made a face in Mike’s direction, “Uh, weren’t we the ones that just saved him? Seemed to recall Mike being huddled in the fetal position when we found him.” She had raised her voice slightly so the store clerk could hear her as they walked towards the exit.

“I had almost forgotten about them. The last time they were out, I was a teenager. Are you from Wicked’s Rest? If not, then I could see how it’d be a shock to the system.” She continued to follow the two men, until they had reached the back door. Sam knew more of the bugs lay just beyond the protection of the stock room, but she had just wanted to get food and go back to the safety of her own home, “If they do, I’m getting one too. Maybe a ninety piece will last me until the giant ass cicadas die off or go back into the ground.”

As Mike glared at them both, Sam looked over to Memphis, “Wanna join me for a trip to Wendy’s? I hear it’s safer to travel in numbers…”

— 

The back door might as well have been the golden staircase to heaven right now. Memphis stared at the unassuming door with a newfound sense of wonder. If there were any bugs behind that door Memphis was going to give up and whine in a freezer like Mike had until he froze to death. “I wish I could pretend like I wasn’t from here but… born and raised.” Memphis shrugged, raising his hand as if he was volunteering for something.

“Yes! Oh my god absolutely. Group field trip to Wendy’s! You in, Mike?” he asked the mostly nonverbal man, waggling his eyes at the man and hopping back and forth on each leg excitedly. Mike had the nerve to scoff at the two and pushed the back door open. Memphis ignored the tightening of his chest as the door was flung open, afraid of what might be behind it. “Fuck no.” was all he said before he ran off into the night. Memphis simply nodded his head, “Actually that makes a lot of sense. Some people just have no sense of gratitude. Anyways, Wendy’s?”

— 

Sam laughed as Memphis taunted Mike. Some people just dealt with massive bugs in different ways than others, and that was okay, but Mike was going to miss out on the best part of the evening. Actually, second best. To Sam, meeting Memphis had been the best part. This guy was hilarious and had made a really shitty situation so much better.

These days, when he left the bar only moderately buzzed instead of falling over, Emilio thought it probably counted as something of a win. He liked to keep his wits about him where he could, though he’d admit it was getting harder and harder to accept the daunting weight of even momentary sobriety these days. Still, he made an attempt. In the interest of keeping his friends from worrying too much, or avoiding that look they gave him, or making it home alive instead of getting himself killed on the trek between the bar and Teddy’s house because he was too drunk to fight back. He was doing better, he thought. He wasn’t sure if it was the truth or not.

Tonight, the trek felt longer than usual. Maybe it was because he was making it buzzed instead of drunk, the excess energy humming in his chest. His hand rested on the stake in his pocket, mind wandering absently. He didn’t feel ready to go home just yet. He wanted something to do, wanted some action, wanted a fight. 

Luckily, in Wicked’s Rest, you never had to go particularly far to find one. 

He heard a scuffle from a nearby alley, and the familiar tug in his gut as he got close confirmed that whatever was the cause was distinctly undead. A thrill of excitement went through him, hand tightening on the stake in his pocket. This was what he’d needed, he thought. This was a good cure for that nervous energy in his chest. Nothing else ever seemed to hit the spot quite right.

—

It wasn’t that Sam wanted to be out this late. It wasn’t that Sam was looking for a fight with a vampire, but here she was. All her worst nightmares coming true after what she had witnessed with Zach merely months before. And instead of being able to flee this time, she had completely frozen in fear. Anxiety wrapping a chokehold around her mind and body, not allowing her to react. And all she could think about was how Cass had claimed that there were good vampires in the world. Please be good. Please be good. Please be good.

The words were repeated over and over again in her mind as she stood backed against a wall trapped; her body shaking and tears silently running down her face as the large fanged creature slowly moved towards her with an absolute sneer on his face. But instead of immediately attacking Sam, she watched as the vampire played cat and mouse. Made her nothing but a toy instead of quickly devouring her and putting her out of the agony she was already in.

If she moved one way, he gave her just a little to make her think she was free, but then made haste just to block her. This had continued until she had found him right up on her now, slowly running his nose up her neck inhaling the sweet, metallic scent of her blood. And with her body now pinned, Sam let out a slight yelp as she felt his teeth sink deep into her neck; knowing that everything she was experiencing in this moment, had to have been what Zach had felt the night the life had been drained from him by not one vampire, but many vampires.

—

There were a few different ways to go about things. You could burst into a situation, proverbial guns blazing — Emilio’s preferred method — or you could go for stealth. He wasn’t so good at the latter these days, not with the bum leg slowing him down. But he was aware that it was more necessary, sometimes. Take, for example, a situation like this one. Emilio got within sight of the alley to find a vampire with a woman pressed against the wall of the alley, teeth already in her throat. Barging in could lead to the thing ripping her throat out without even meaning to, or giving it enough of a warning to take a hostage. Neither was an option Emilio particularly wanted to explore, so… a clumsy attempt at stealth it was.

Slowly, he edged into the alleyway. If he were more clinical, he might think it fortunate that the vampire was so distracted by its meal. But the woman looked terrified, and Emilio wasn’t the sort of man who enjoyed seeing innocent people afraid. He tried to meet her eye over the vampire’s shoulder, pressed a finger to his lips gently to request silence. He pulled a stake from his pocket, taking a step forward, and then another. And then…

His knee creaked. A quiet thing, bones rubbing together painfully in a way they weren’t supposed to. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. The vampire pulled away from its victim, whirling around to face Emilio with blood dripping down its chin. The slayer grimaced. “Well,” he said flatly, “so much for the surprise party.”

—

Sam could feel the life of her slowly being drained. The hardest part had been the teeth digging into her bare flesh, but the more the vampire took from her, the more euphoric she started to feel. Almost light headed, and the fear was slowly starting to fade away, but then she saw him. The man lingering just out of the corner of her eyes and definitely out of the view from the vampire. And as she watched him slowly remove what appeared to be a large piece of wood from his pocket, she realized it was a stake. A fucking stake like she had seen many times in comics and in movies.

Blinking a few times, she tried to keep her eyes open, but with each passing minute it was becoming harder and harder. But before Sam could pass out, she felt the fangs being ripped from her neck leaving her eyes to shoot back open rather widely as that same pain from earlier tore through her nerves. It was like a jolt to the system, and though she had lost blood, she was starting to become well aware of her surroundings once more.

“Help me…Please…” She wanted to scream, and she was just about to squirm, but she felt the vampire tighten his grip on her, not leaving her any wiggle room to break free. And kneeing him in the crotch was out of the question thanks to the fear that seemed to paralyze her in the moment. Instead, she would put her life in this man’s hands and hope and pray that he knew what he was doing, unlike she had, the night Zach died.

—

The vampire gripped his victim, hissing at Emilio in a way that hardly seemed human. Years ago, when things were simpler, he would have scoffed at the thought. Of course it didn’t seem human — it wasn’t. It was a monster with teeth and claws, a thing that survived only through hurting others. Things used to be black and white, and there were days when he missed that. There were moments where he longed for the simplicity of accepting his fate as a weapon instead of making so many attempts to masquerade as a man. The thing his mother had sharpened against a stone wouldn’t have cared about anything more than it cared about putting this stake through this vampire’s chest. 

But whatever he was now was different. 

This new thing, this strange hybrid between knife and man, thought about Zane. It thought about Metzli. It even thought about Monty a little, though it would probably deny that one. It wondered if this was a normal night for this vampire or if it was a slip in the wrong direction, wondered if it had killed before or if this was a first attempt. It wondered how much any of those things mattered, wondered if they should matter more or less than they did.

And then, the woman trapped in the vampire’s grip spoke, and Emilio forced every other thought from his mind. There was someone, and she needed help. That had to take priority here. “If you go now,” he said slowly, accent curling tightly around the words, “I won’t kill you.” The vampire hissed again, and Emilio nodded. The man faded away, and the blade remained. He surged forward, ignoring the pain in his knee. Time to take care of business.

—

All Sam could think about at the moment was Zach. She could vividly recall the way every single thing had played out that night, but this time, she was finding herself in his position. Seeing what he must have seen and felt play out in slow motion. If this had been her time to die, then so be it. There wasn’t much she could do. The control was in that of the monster gripping her throat and the man with the stake. She could imagine fingers wrapped tightly around Zach’s throat as teeth tore into his neck; his arms; his legs; every part of him, while she stood frozen in fear, but something in that moment changed. The way everything was playing out in her mind shifted, and when she looked up, she noticed the man lunging forward towards her and the creature that held her hostage.

Feeling the grip around her throat loosen slightly had allowed Sam an opportunity to break free. And as she yanked on the vampire's ice cold hand, she put all her strength into her actions taking advantage of the distraction from the slayer.

Sliding down the wall and shifting to her knees, Sam crawled out of the way of the two as quickly as she could. But this time, she wasn’t going to stand by and just let this thing hurt someone else. If this hunter needed help, she was going to be prepared. And that’s when she saw it, a metal pipe laying on the ground near a dumpster just up ahead. It was perfect, however, as she used the nearby brick wall for leverage, she realized her balance was not. The bloodloss had taken its toll, but now was not the time for giving up. Instead, she zigzagged towards the pipe and stumbled into the side of the green metal, before leaning down and gripping it in her hand, and as she looked back up towards the scuffle going on, a look of defeat was one replaced by something of anger and rage.

— 

The woman slipped from the vampire’s grip, and Emilio watched her from the corner of his eye for a moment. She stumbled away, out of reach of the monster who had attacked her, and he gave a satisfied nod. Good. She’d run, he thought, take off down the alley and to the street, and he wouldn’t need to worry about a civilian getting in the middle of things. Satisfied with one less distraction, Emilio dove into the drive forward, knocking the vampire against the wall. It grunted, shoving him back with a twist.

His bad leg hadn’t gone unnoticed; it rarely did. Most opponents were eager to exploit any weaknesses they could get their hands on, and Emilio’s leg was a glaring one with a neon sign in the shape of a prominent limp. The vampire aimed a harsh kick at his knee, and Emilio barely managed to stumble back in time to avoid it. “Pendejo,” he spat, rolling his shoulders. 

The vampire offered no response. It surged towards him, fangs at the ready, and Emilio had half a mind to let it sink its teeth into his skin and taste the acidic blood flowing through him. It would be a nice lesson in karma, but… People always made a thing of it when he came home bleeding, especially when it was clear it was a thing that could have been avoided. So, another step back avoided the fangs, and he plunged his stake forward in the interest of ending things. The vampire turned at the last second, sending the wooden point grazing its ribs instead of sinking between them. Emilio turned with it, towards the sound of someone approaching.

The civilian. With a metal pipe. 

Goddamn it. 

—

The rage that had filled Sam’s heart and mind was like a flood of adrenaline, and without thinking about herself and retreating back to safety, Sam, instead made a mad dash towards the vampire. It had taken everything within her to keep her gait straight. To keep the creature in focus and keep the man out of focus. The last thing she had wanted was to aim at her intended target, but strike down the only source of help she had in stopping this thing.

As she grew closer, Sam narrowed her eyes and focused harder. She was going to whack this motherfucker as hard as she could if it was the last thing she did, and luckily for her, the stake being rammed in its direction had been just the distraction needed for Sam to whack the vampire upside the head as hard as she possibly could. Granted as soon as she did, she felt the reverb back into her body and had to lean back up against a nearby wall. But when she saw the creature go down, even if just temporarily, Sam leaned into her attack and had the pipe at the ready, sending it down over the vampire as hard as she could as she had somehow managed to drop to her knees almost on top of it, “You killed my best friend!!!” Her scream was loud and tears slowly began to trickle down her pink-tinged cheeks. Logically, Sam knew this probably wasn’t doing much to something that was already dead, but he had made for a good target for her anger and distress, especially after being used for dinner.

—

A metal pipe didn’t do much against the undead. It would hurt, sure, but it wasn’t like it would do any permanent kind of damage. Blunt force wasn’t the best weapon against vampires; stabbing them was far more effective, even if you were doing it with something that wasn’t made of wood. It wasn’t as if dead skin could bruise, after all, and it took a lot more force than one might assume to break bones. But there was little time to tell the woman running towards them any of this. It was all Emilio could do to jerk backwards and avoid the risk of getting a taste of that pipe himself. The vampire let out an angry hiss as it made contact, clearly unhappy with the attack despite its ineffectiveness. At least the force of it knocked it down; Emilio could take the upper hand when it was offered to him, even if he’d have much rather done things his own way.

The woman was leaning against the wall, still holding that pipe as she dropped to her knees. She was too close to the vampire, Emilio thought; the risk of it taking advantage and using her as a hostage again was too high. There was little time to waste, and so the slayer dove in. He shoved her back, less gentle than he might have been had the adrenaline not been pumping so intensely through his veins, taking her place on top of the vampire and pressing his stake against its chest. In another situation, there may have been some dry statement here, some smug grasping of the final word, but Emilio was far too concerned about the woman to manage much more than a grimace as he shoved the stake between the vampire’s ribs and let it turn to dust beneath him. His palms hit the concrete as the vampire’s body crumbled away, and he sat there for a moment, still holding the stake.

This was the part he was bad at, he thought. He understood what to do with vampires, knew how to get rid of them and make sure they did no more harm. He didn’t know how to deal with terrified, screaming, bleeding people that were often left in the aftermath. This was the kind of thing Edgar had been far better at. His brother knew how to smooth things over, knew how to comfort. Emilio only ever knew how to kill. “Uh…” He turned towards the woman, shifting backwards into a sitting position. “You… good?”

—

Sam was so intent on destroying this thing, that she barely noticed the man coming in to take her place until she felt herself being shoved backwards. Toppling back to the ground, Sam laid there for a minute gathering herself, before finally using what remaining strength she had to scoot back out of the way. And before she could really process anything else, the vampire was nothing but a cloud of dust.

With relief washing over her tired body, she let out a loud sigh and closed her eyes. Sweat ran down her forehead from the effort made towards trying to beat the dust out of the creature, but this man had come in for the save. Though she had been somewhat annoyed that she hadn’t been able to take it out herself, she was just grateful he had been there knowing that if he hadn’t heard her screams, she would probably be with Zach right now.

“Uh…” Her breathing remained heavy as she let her eyes move from where the vampire once was to the man who had saved her life, “Yeah, I th-think so. Thank you…for saving me.” Sam had debated telling him why she was so hellbent on going after the thing herself, but decided not to. She didn’t know him. She was grateful. Would’ve loved the opportunity to learn from him in case this ever happened again, but her embarrassment that this happened was slowly starting to get the better of her.

—  

Discomfort washed over him like an ocean wave, clinging to his skin and dripping from his hair. The woman was laying on the ground where he’d shoved her, probably sore but not sporting any serious injuries that he could see. His own adrenaline from the fight was quickly fading, heartbeat slowing as his body recognized the fight’s end, and he knew hers must be doing the same. Whatever strength she’d gained from her own anxiety that had allowed her to pick up that pipe and take a swing was surely gone now. Emilio wondered how much she’d been relying on it just to stay upright.

There was some relief, at least, when she responded that she was okay. He never knew what to do with people who weren’t, wasn’t sure how to deal with physical injury any more than he knew how to deal with psychological ones. He’d seen plenty of injuries, sure, but first aid hadn’t been among the lessons learned during his training. The way his mother saw it, if you were stupid enough to get hurt in a fight, you ought to suffer the pain of it until it healed. Emilio didn’t think that way anymore, if he ever really had to begin with, but that didn’t mean he had the faintest idea of how to fix things.

“Good,” he said with a nod. “That’s… yeah. All right.” The discomfort only grew as she thanked him, and he spun the stake absently between his fingers. “Kind of my job. You, uh…” He glanced down to the dust, already being picked up by the wind and swept away. “You said it killed your friend?” Was there a body nearby? He was never quite sure what to do with those, either, or with the guilt that always came along with them.

—

Sam had managed to pull herself up using a nearby brick wall as a backrest, “Yeah, I mean...Vampires did. Not him.” Or what was left of him anyway. She looked down at the ground pausing, that night flashing in her mind. “You may have seen it on the news or on the internet about a guy being murdered behind an auto repair shop several months ago. But the news made it seem like an animal attack. It was a group of vampires. I know because I was there. I watched it happen.” She grew quiet as she mindlessly drew circles in the gravel with a stick she had found laying on the ground.

“It’s why I went crazy on that one earlier. I just wanted to get some kind of revenge for my best friend. But clearly it didn’t do much…” Sam tossed the stick away, before letting out a sigh. There was no sense in hanging around any longer. The vampire was literally dust, and she figured this man had somewhere to be.

Slowly getting back up to her feet, Sam looked over at the other person, “Are you okay? Do you need help getting up? I know that must’ve been a rough fight.” She walked over towards him offering out a hand to help him up if he needed it, “Maybe I can buy you a drink some time.” It wasn’t much in the way of thanks, but she still wanted to repay him, somehow, for saving her life. And if he allowed her to, maybe even pick his brain for pointers on how to handle possible vampire attacks in the future.

—

Being in the presence of someone who had lost a loved one to a vampire attack was… a little strange, in a way. For all the atrocities he’d witnessed and all the people he’d met here in town, Emilio wasn’t sure he knew anyone else who’d lost the people they loved to this specific sort of thing. It made him feel uncomfortable, made him think of the vampire attack that loomed so heavy over his own history. He listened to her speak as if he was underwater and she was above the surface; it was muffled. He nodded anyway.

“Sorry,” he said, and his tongue felt heavy. “For… the loss.” He wasn’t sure why he said it. He hated it when people said it to him, hated the uselessness of it. Sorry was a word that tried to carry more than it was capable of, a scrawny thing making a pathetic attempt to move mountains with its bare hands. 

It took him a moment to register that she was still speaking, still here. Maybe it took him a moment to realize that he was still here, too. He shrugged, taking her hand despite the way he felt like there were bugs crawling up the back of his neck and letting her help him to his feet. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Uh, maybe.” Or maybe not, if this feeling didn’t go away. “I, uh… Probably should get going. You good to walk home on your own?”

—

Sam noticed that the man had gone somewhere else by the quietness and the look in his eyes. She had been there way too many times to know that what she had said had personally affected him, and it made her realize he had been the right one for the job of saving her. She was grateful to be able to still be standing here. Sure, she was worn out and sore. Emotionally and physically drained, but she was going home tonight. Back to her parents. Back to Scout. Back to the people who cared for her.

Helping him off the ground, Sam stepped back to give him some space. If he wanted to get drinks, he’d find her. It wasn’t that hard to find somebody in a town as small as Wicked’s Rest once you knew their face. But he was right. She did need to get back home. It was late, and though she wasn’t fond of the idea, she would be fine to make it back to her apartment. Adrenaline still coursed through her veins, and if she had to run the whole way she would, “Yeah, I’m good. It’s not that far from here.”

The mess made by the sky quakes or the weird pale iZombie cosplayer had left Sam distressed. Here she stood with a store full of broken glass; no lights from shattered bulbs; and thousands of dollars in damage that she didn’t even know how she was going to cover. She had saved up for this place penny by penny and right now, in the moment, she felt like dropping to the floor and sobbing. It had already been a hard enough year at the loss of Zach, but this just seemed to be the cherry on top. The one thing she was grateful for in the moment was that Scout was upstairs, because losing him right now would have made everything impossible, and she couldn’t do impossible right now.

Closing her eyes and just trying to breathe and use the techniques she had learned in therapy in times of anxiety, Sam stood quietly; except for the crunch of glass underneath her every step. She had heard the noise of anyone else, while she tried to focus, but when she finally opened her eyes, she saw someone standing in the store, “Uh, we’re…we’re closed.” I mean, if it wasn’t kind of obvious. 

—

Finn wasn’t a die hard customer, like he knew most comic stores prized themselves on, but he’d checked out Escape Your Fate a few times. He could appreciate a good comic book but that had always been more of his brother’s thing - movies and video games were better at keeping his attention. The collectibles were fun to check out though, even if he rarely had the money to get them nor the proper place to display any. At least it was a nice vibe, the place usually filled with excitement and intrigue and just good feelings in general. 

Didn’t look like those were on the table for today, though. 

“Holy shit,” Finn muttered as he took in what had just recently been display windows, wondering what in the hell could have caused damage like this. The first hit of that disappointment was gut wrenching, a full on ‘punch in the stomach’ kind of pain. It drew him closer, glass crunching under his feet even as he reminded himself that he really wasn’t the best at cheering people up, much less a stranger. Just walking away felt wrong, though… even if he really regretted the decision the second the store owner spoke up. 

“Oh, yeah I… kinda figured.” Which in no way explained why he’d walked in anyway. “Are you - no, dumb question, obviously not. Uhm… so this sucks?” 

—

She had seen the guy around a couple of times at the store, and he seemed nice enough. But today Sam was struggling. Today it felt like her world had ended again. In the moment of everything, she was struggling to think straight. Struggling with what to do or say. But she had to do something. She couldn’t just leave the store in shambles. So with a deep, slow and quivering breath, she set her sights on Finn, and answered him, refusing to focus on the destroyed store around her, “Yeah, it does. But if I...want to expect to keep any of my merchandise, I’ve gotta get things boarded up or locked up or something.”

Sam knew the value of most of the things in the store. The newer comics and dollar books weren’t as much of an issue as were some of the collectors items and graded stock. That’s what any smart collector would be after in a wrecked store with no sort of lock or protection from the outside world. But how was she going to fix that? “Um, do you…do you have any ideas?” It was a stretch. She didn’t know this guy, but he was currently the only person around.

—

Her loss was hard to stomach, implementing further what a bad idea this was. Worst case scenario, Finn had a minor melt down right along with her. Best case… maybe he didn’t make her feel worse than she already did. “Right. Guess some people don’t need more than a broken window to think they can walk in.” Some of this stuff was valuable, Finn knew as much. Collector’s items and shit like that. Probably good for a bit of extra cash if you knew where to sell it. 

A dent in her hopelessness, then. A flicker of something, maybe not hope but not complete surrender. She was looking at him for answers, even if she seemed to know that it was probably futile. Finn could barely keep a lid on his own life, much less provide help to others. He wanted to, though. “Is there… like a back room or something? Bathroom, anywhere with a lock? Shit solution but might work temporarily. Moving all the stuff there?” Scrabbling at ideas, anything that might lessen the weight that, unbeknownst to her, was currently shared by Finn. “I could… help you move it. If you want.”

–

Sam didn’t want to think less of people and their motives, but easy money was easy money, especially if you were desperate. Or, you know, if you just liked collecting things this would be easy pickings. But her mind couldn’t go into the debate of people’s morals. Not right now anyways. It was already racing in thought enough as it was, “Unfortunately, yeah…” She sighed, still hoping he had a solution, despite knowing how unfair it was on him to come up with such a big solution.

Her eyes continued to scan the store for something that might help. It wasn’t like Escape Your Fate was a massive store, but there was a lot of smaller merchandise. It was when he spoke up that Sam’s mind was pulled back into the moment surrounding them, “Uh, yeah…yeah there’s a bathroom, a storage room, my office, and another room that I host game nights in, and they all have locks! They’re kind of small except for the game room, but I think we could fit most of this in there. You’re a genius, and if you don’t mind helping, I would be so grateful.” Sam was starting to see a glimmer of hope thanks to the man standing in front of her, and she knew she would want to repay him for his help. She’d just have to figure out a way. But looking over everything made her realize how daunting it would be for two people, “Let me make a quick phone call to my parents. They could probably come help us clean up.” Sam grabbed her cell phone from the counter and stepped towards the back to make a call that turned out to be more emotional than she had hoped, especially in front of someone she barely knew.

—

Relief flooded Finn, too, some of it his own. The despair had been a bit much and providing comfort wasn’t exactly his forte - it would have been awkward as hell to not help at all and have to leave before he eventually spiraled with her. But there was hope now and Finn felt… useful. Genius was definitely a stretch but he could accept helpful. “Sure, don’t really have anything better to do.” He’d long since given up on the idea of karma, bad shit just happened for no good reason but in his case, there had been a lot of strangers willing to help with the bad shit. Maybe he couldn’t be useful in helping someone out with the near-death bullshit he constantly found himself in but this he could do. 

As she ducked away for a phone call, Finn tried to distract himself by carefully padding across the wreckage, starting to pick out salvagable items. Not listening in was hard but not emotionally listening in was impossible, his face scrunched up by the time she returned. “Not good?” he asked carefully, hands filled with different action figures.

—-

The phone call with Sam’s parents went as best as she had hoped it could granted they were in shock just as much as she was. But immediately her dad had set into motion a plan to get the store boarded up with the help of some of their neighbors and others in the community that they had known since moving to Wicked’s Rest, and even though the twenty-eight year old had broken down over the call, most of it had turned into good tears.

Walking back out, Sam looked around at everything, before laying her eyes on the kind man who was offering to help, “No, it actually went a lot better than I had hoped. They’re coming and bringing help with them.” She sniffled a little and wiped the tears from her eyes, “Um, and I’m sorry I didn’t ask earlier, but, what’s your name? I just want to be able to properly thank you later on, when, you know, all this is taken care of.” She moved closer and began to look through everything. Glass shards and dust had slipped down into the boxes of comics. It coated almost all of the merchandise, tables, shelves, and floor.

—

Her jumble of emotions was hard to decipher, the turmoil of the store and whatever else that phone call had inspired a great, big mix of something incomprehensible. Finn only had her tear streaked face to go off as she returned, assuming (he thought rather sensibly) that shit had gone sideways. Except it hadn’t and with that as a stencil, Finn found it a bit easier to sniff out her relief, how grateful she was. So she had good, supportive parents. That was a relief. Probably would have been fine even if Finn had decided not to trudge his meddling self into the store but there was no backing out now. 

“Oh, right. Uh, Finn. I’m not enough of a regular to know your name, either,” he admitted, emptying his hands onto one of the counters not completely covered with glass. Finn followed her lead in starting to shovel through the rest of the stuff, being careful not to cut himself up on the glass. “And you don’t need to… properly thank me. Just giving back, in a way. This town can fuck you up and I’ve been lucky to receive help from strangers that didn’t need to help me so… yeah.”

—

“It’s nice to meet you, Finn. I’m Sam.” She was grateful Finn had come into her life. Grateful that he had wanted to give back, because in this moment, she needed his help immensely. And when the time came and the right person walked into her life, Sam would pay it forward, “You can say that again, but I’m grateful it was me you decided to take pity on, because otherwise, I’d probably be sitting in a pile of glass shards crying.” She laughed softly. The first time since all of this had happened.

Watching as he carefully sifted through stuff, Sam recalled having some gloves in the back, “Be right back.” Within minutes she had returned with a pair for both of them. It was probably going to be a long night, and while Sam didn’t know how long he could or would even want to stay, just coming through the doorway and checking on her had meant more than anything. But if he was staying, pizza and sodas would be a must for him and anybody her parents managed to bring with them.

Sai walked up to Escape Your Fate Comics, this time with a set of posters in hand. They were all bat week branded, featuring bat photos and fun facts along with calls to action that sent people to the conservation society website. He’d have to make a Bat Week page for the occasion. Maybe detailing the local business, and the ways to participate or support the animals. 

He was looking forward to talking about Sam again and hearing more of her ideas. He had plenty of his own, but it was always good to breathe some fresh life into projects. The only thing he wasn’t sure on was what to tell her about the comic she’d so kindly gifted him. Fiction never really interested him. The real world was always more interesting, to him at least. The comic hadn’t been much of an exception. He made about half-way through before giving up and skimming the rest and confirming there weren’t really any bats in the comic. The branding was a bit misleading. He probably wasn’t the first one to be thrown off by the batman name. 

He was stopping by a little before closing this time, but the store was still pretty empty when he got in, except for one person browsing through comics in the back. Seeing Sam up by the front counter, he walked up. “Sam?” Sai said to catch her attention, and then held up the pile of posters he brought with me. “I’m back to talk more about Bat Week. And I brought a few posters with me too.”

—

Things had been going rather well with someone in town, until they hadn’t, and the relationship just ended without any notice. And while her heart ached, Sam figured there was no sense in dwelling on it all and to just continue one with life one day at a time. Luckily, today hadn’t been so bad, and when she heard the bell over the door and saw it was Sai coming back, a smile came over her face, “Hey Sai!” She had honestly forgotten about Bat Week, even though she had started working on poster and flyer ideas herself not too long after their first meeting, and when he held up his own pile, it had reminded her.

“Right! Bat Week. Hold on.” Running to the back office, Sam rifled through the papers on her desk, until she had found what she was looking for. It was a sketchbook filled with some ideas and layouts she had in mind for him. Nothing finalized, but maybe a start to something that could help.

Coming back out to the front, she laid the sketchbook down on the counter, “You reminded me that I had some of my own stuff I had started working on, and I wanted to get your thoughts.” She smiled warmly at the man, just grateful to have another distraction to take her mind off of another failed attempt at a relationship.

—

Sai flipped through the sketchbook that Sam had brought out. They were good. Better than anything he could come up with. He wasn’t so much for the drawing parts of design. Moving photos and text in Word, he felt more comfortable with. “Wow,” he said. “These are pretty incredible.” He’d expected her to just come up with a few activities for her store, but she’d really taken the idea and run with it. “I’m thrilled you’ve gotten so excited about this, honestly.” He laid the posters he’d brought on the counter. “Not to discount my own work or anything, but I’m thinking maybe we don’t need these, then. If you’d be open to finishing some of those, at least. I could get them printed, and they could be the official materials. I’d be happy to put the credit to your art and all of that.” 

“Do you do this art professionally? In addition to,” Sai gestured to the store around them, “all of this.” It would make sense to have a couple of income streams, after all. He’d read that having physical businesses with storefronts could be a risky endeavor. The costs were higher. And the work she was showing him did seem professional caliber to him. 

—

Sam was flattered by his compliments. Almost embarrassed. She didn’t know why it was so hard to take a compliment on her art. It was one of her passions after all. And she did do self-published comic books on the side for fun, but not in the hopes of making more money. It was just a hobby. Plus, she had found a little more muse lately in her budding relationship, until it had just abruptly ended. But the art had still been there, and even in her saddest moments, it was something she could get lost in. Just like the pages of a comic book.

“Thank you, and I would be more than happy to finish these up. They’ve been fun, and they’ll be a nice distraction.” Sam looked down at the sketches, before looking back up at Sai, “It’s more of a hobby. I took some art classes in college, and I love sketching, but my heart veered towards owning my own shop, so I could share other people’s work. Like my friend, Maggie’s.” She motioned to one of Maggie’s comics on the counter. 

—

Sai glanced over at the comic, but didn’t bother to pick it up. His foray into Batman had been enough to convince him comics weren’t for him, as much as novels weren’t. But he appreciated the sentiment behind what she was saying. He’d seen for himself how generous she was, with ideas and with her work. “That’s nice of you, to support your friends,” he said. “And other artists too. Although with your talent, I’m sure people interested in comics would love to look at your stuff.” 

“I did read the Batman comic, by the way,” he said, deciding he might as well rip the band-aid off. “It was… not bad. Not my thing, really. I’m not so much of a fiction person, and I guess the comics are no exception. To be honest, with the name, I did expect a couple more bats.” He glanced around the store. It amazed him that so many people would get this excited about comics. Adults, even. But to each their own, right? “But it was interesting to see what this all is about,” Sai said, nodding back to the store. “So, thank you again, for that.” 

—

Sam blushed softly and looked down. Thinking back to the night she first met Sai, the young woman had been glad she had given him a chance. He was a nice guy, and she loved the idea of supporting the bats, and getting the community on board. For as long as Sam had lived in Wicked’s Rest, there were still times when she felt so distant from her neighbors and the people she had grown up around. They all seemed nice enough, but community was supposed to be about closeness and helping each other out. And while she had gotten that from the people her parents knew, the day her store was wrecked, no one nearby had offered to come over and help. It took a passerby to come in, and she would forever be in his debt, “I actually do have a few self-published things stuck around here somewhere. I don’t advertise it, but if people want to buy it, I’m more than happy to sell it to them.”

Sam wasn’t surprised by his answer. In fact, it was refreshing to hear his honest opinion. Comic books weren’t for everyone, and she understood that, “Well I appreciate you being honest with me. I get that they’re not for everyone, and I could see where the title could be misleading.” She laughed softly, “But if I ever do come across one that’s purely educational about bats…” Sam paused, an idea coming to mind. “Actually, what if that’s what I contribute? A comic book about bats. The animal. Not the superhero.” She was curious to know Sai’s opinion.

—

The polite thing might be to offer to buy a couple of Sam’s comics too. Although since Sai already mentioned he wasn’t into them, it would clearly be an empty offer, so he didn’t bother. But he was surprised to hear she made people go looking for them. “I mean, you are the owner of the store,” he pointed out. “I’m sure people would be excited to see your work if they knew about it. It might not seem humble, but a display or something like that could help add local character. There’s nothing wrong with a little self-promotion.” It seemed like maybe she didn’t want the spotlight, but from what he’d seen, she definitely deserved it. 

And her idea for a bat comic was a stroke of genius. Sai might not like comics, but plenty of people did. What better way to bring those people into bat conservation? “I think that’s an amazing idea, if it’s something you’re willing to do. I’m always looking for new ways to engage people. Something like that could really get people excited about Bat Week and our local bats. What are you thinking the comic would be about, exactly? I’m happy to contribute any factual information.” 

—

Sam liked that Sai understood where she was coming from with her not wanting to display her art, and maybe one day she would get there. Self-promotion was definitely a thing these days. Just ask any social media influencer, “You’re right. I might consider it. Maybe the next time I have an in-store event or something.” She had contemplated displaying it before, but hadn’t gotten into the business of selling her own work. Still it would be a big boost in the area of self-confidence, and Sam knew she could always use more of that.

“I was thinking the comic could be just about bats in general. Interesting facts and figures. More educational than anything. Help you to spread the word about your conservation efforts. If you want to email me a list of facts, I could pull from that?” Sam was already having character ideas in her head and couldn’t wait to sketch them out. Her comic book that was an ongoing project for her may not have been center spotlight for this event, but a fun bat comic would be, and it made this whole Bat Week thing look even more fun. Life may have been crappy lately, but Sai and his beloved bats were easily making it a lot more interesting. “Was there anything in particular you wanted included?”

—

“Well bat week might make a good reason for an in-store event,” Sai pointed out. “And at this point, the whole thing’s going to be a big feature of your work, between the flyers and the comic. Which is not a bad thing at all or anything. I think this all is really going to help it succeed.” The posters were the perfect thing to make people stop and go what is that about. And the comic would be the push they needed to engage further. Publicity was the least he could offer Sam, since he wasn’t paying her. “I’m sure people would want to see more of the artistic talent behind the campaign.” 

Sai drummed his fingers along the counter, thinking. Of course, there were endless possibilities of what he wanted to include, but he wouldn’t want to overwhelm Sam or the readers with too much. “I think it would be great to include some key takeaways for readers in there somewhere. Building bat houses, not using pesticides, advocating for bat-friendly policies, that sort of thing. But other than that, I’d really defer to your discretion on how to engage people,” he said. “I can provide you information about the local species, hibernation and migration habits, diet, anything really, that you think might be good to include.” 

—

Sai did have a very solid point. Maybe Sam could showcase her comic during Bat Week. Kind of a segway for people who might’ve been interested in her work. She’d consider it, “You do have a very valid point. I’ll consider it, but this is about Bat Week and all the good your idea is going to generate. So you, too, should be proud. Have you gotten any other businesses on-board with the idea?” Sam mindlessly picked up a nearby pencil and began sketching out more ideas as she listened.

“I think that’s a great idea. Thinking maybe getting people to fall in love with the bats with facts and then include towards the end all the information about how people can help out. And send me all of that. You’re the expert at bats. And I’m an expert at drawing.” It felt weird calling herself an expert. Sam had been drawing most of her life, but to say it outloud was just different. But also a small boost to her self-confidence and something that made her smile. “I’ll get a rough comic worked out and then I can send it to you to see what you think, and we can go from there?”

—

“Some,” Sai said. “I’m working on it, but I’m sure I’ll be able to get a good number.” It had been a mixed bag really, of interest and flat nos. And there were, of course, establishments with community bulletin boards, who would be supporting it one way or another. Getting the bulk of businesses in town to participate would really come down to persistence in Sai’s eyes. That he had plenty of. “No one who’s matched your enthusiasm yet, though. But I think that’s a pretty high bar.” Besides, with new and improved materials, it would be an even easier sell. Sam work’s captured the vision of the event well, he thought.  

“Really, I think whatever you come up with will be perfect,” Sam had a knack for this sort of thing, Sai could tell from the way she talked about it. He didn’t feel any hesitation about leaving the project in her hands. “But I’m happy to take a look partway through, if you like. You already have my email, right?” 

—

Sam could only imagine how hard it must have been getting businesses on board, but she admired his dedication, “Well thank you for considering me and coming in that night. I’ve really enjoyed this side project so far. It’s given me a chance to really flex my drawing skills.” She laughed. “But I will keep trying to send more people your way. I know this is probably a pretty daunting task to be taking on alone for the most part.” She really wanted to help him as best she could.

Finishing up a rough sketch of something, she put her pencil down and shut the sketchbook, seeing that it was getting close to closing and there was still one customer remaining, “Thanks for putting that kind of trust in me. And yeah, I’ve got it from our last meeting.” Peaking around Sai, she spoke to the other customer, “Hey Nicky, I’m closing up in ten. Final selection time, yeah?” Sam turned her attention back to the man in front of her, “He’s a regular. He knows the drill. But yeah, I’ll start working on that and get it emailed to you soon. And if I have any other leads or ideas I’ll let you know.”

—

“Oh, I’m not alone or anything,” Sai said. “I have my co-founder of the Bat Conservation Society, who’s helping some, and I’d consider you pretty much an equal partner in this project at this point too, if you don’t mind me saying so. Considering how much you’re contributing. But the more people the better. And a personal touch can really make all the difference for getting people involved. So if you know anyone, definitely let them know about it.” 

She hadn’t been expecting this. Maybe Winter should have known that the Codfather really wasn’t the best place to bring Sam for their first actual date purely for the sake of it being too fancy but the amount of awkward tension in the air was ridiculous at this point. They had giant lobsters. Why couldn’t they talk over giant lobsters? It was so weird. Usually she was so good about starting and keeping conversation but it was like they had nothing in common and the conversation fell flat every time she tried. 

Maybe she should have expected it. Sam ran a comic book shop, had a dog, and named her figurines. Winter liked ice skating, iced coffee, and pretty clothes that were uncomfortable to wear. They were pretty much opposites but was she trying to convince herself this was wrong because it was or because she wasn’t used to being awkward?

“How’s the meal?” She took a bite to accentuate the question. Or maybe it was so that she didn’t have to say anything else. Her eyes traveled around the restaurant, Winter realizing she had made the biggest mistake of the night by coming here. It was overpriced and they’d made them wait for a table even when there were only a few other people seated at the time. The saving grace was that the food was pretty good and the wine was impeccable. Did Sam even like wine? “This place is too much, isn’t it?”

—

It had come as a bit of a shock when Winter had suggested a date night at the Codfather, but Sam really wanted to see if this could work. Though Winter could be very feisty, the twenty-eight year old had enjoyed the banter between the two, and seeing as how there weren’t flying toes coming towards them, maybe the evening would be a lot more enjoyable. But the conversation seemed to be lacking. At least for the time being, and the more they got to know each other, the less likely it seemed like they were compatible. But Sam was determined to give this a fair chance.

“It’s…it’s good, yeah. In all the time I’ve lived in Wicked’s Rest, this is the first time I’ve been here. Maybe if there’s a second time, I’ll try something a little more…fancy.” She didn’t know what the word was that she was looking for, and she couldn’t help but stare down at her chicken tenders; not the most extravagant thing on the menu, when all she had wanted was to try their fish, but considering there was an enormous glass bill hanging over her head, the fish prices didn’t sound that appealing.

Reaching out for the glass of red wine sitting next to her, she swirled it around the glass and took a brief sip of it. Chicken tendies and red wine. If Zach could only see her now. Living the good life with a girl who made a living talking to the dead on tv. Oh the irony in that statement. If Sam had only known… “How’s your, uh…” She looked at Winter’s plate, “what is that again?” Sam had felt so out of place, so much so that it hurt.

—

Glancing down at the chicken tenders in front of Sam, Winter had to suppress a sigh. When the girl had ordered she’d wanted to cut in, let her know the bill was on the medium’s tab, but things had already been hard enough without her offering to pay and she assumed Sam was already set on going dutch. Still…it looked so pathetic that she couldn’t let it go anymore even if it was going to make things worse. “You know you can get something else, right? I thought I’d pick up the tab since I invited you here…I don’t want you eating off the kids menu.” 

She should have spoken up sooner. It wasn’t like Winter to let a weird moment ruin a whole night, keep her quiet, hell it wasn’t like her to be weird at all. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t had a date in over a year and she was rusty…no, that couldn’t be true. She was never rusty. Maybe the two of them just didn’t have that chemistry she’d thought she’d felt back at the winter festival? But whatever it was, she didn’t like it one bit. 

Her eyes moved to the plate in front of her where the giant lobster was waiting for her to dig in. It was a little unusual looking but…”It’s a lobster…it’s pretty big, we could share if you want some.” But she was growing tired of this wasted night and she might have been ready to throw in the towel already. She hated moments like this where she didn’t even know what to say, hated this feeling more than most of the others that popped up throughout life. But she didn’t give up, that wasn’t who Winter was. No, she always found some way to defeat the unpleasantness of life and this would be no different. “Or we could get out of here. It’s a little stuffy in this restaurant, maybe a change of scenery will help us loosen up.”

Her eye was suddenly caught by a ghost flickering into existence, the coolness immediately souring Winter’s mood that much more. Why now? Why would one of them come into such a situation? Even Henry was keeping his distance back in the kitchens. “Well, this is tragic.” She scowled at the ghost, wanting so badly to toss her melted butter over his dark hair. 

—

When Winter had brought up the idea of Sam getting something else, the brunette glanced down at the plate again. This was definitely the date from hell. At least that’s the way it felt. She was now starting to feel awkward about her food choice, and if she had known Winter was picking up the tab at the beginning, she would have ordered something a little more tasty. It didn’t matter how much salt and pepper you added to these things, they just weren’t that good. But Sam wasn’t about to make Winter feel bad, that just wasn’t in her nature, unless it was warranted and this wasn’t warranted, “How do you know I want something else? Chicken tenders and red wine might be my thing.” She looked up to the other woman with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

Her eyes shifting, Sam looked at the lobster. It did look good, and that was one huge crustacean. At least it wasn’t shrimp. From what she had heard, Sam was pretty sure eating shrimp in this town now was punishable by death. One minute it was a carrot shortage and now Shrimp Worshipers. She almost wanted to roll her eyes until she remembered she was in public and on a date that was already going horribly, “I’d…be fine with getting out of here. Maybe going for a walk or to grab a cheeseburger or something.” At least cheeseburgers were safe. Or shakes. Or really any food that didn’t cost more than a month’s rent.

“Hey, I’m just speaking facts here. It really doesn’t take much to impress Sam by the way. You’re trying too hard, Long Island. Yeah, we watched your show.” Zach leaned forward and poked at the large lobster on the table. “That thing’s gross. Why do you rich people eat this shit?” He looked to Winter before looking over at Henry, “Hey man. You ever eat this stuff when you were still alive?”

—

Staring at Sam as she tried to laugh all of this off, Winter wanted to laugh. Not because of Sam’s joke but because the medium should have known that this would go horribly when she picked this place. She had a certain taste for expensive things, always growing up around the best of anything. Hell, caviar had been her treat when she’d gotten good grades in school. Her mother had built an empire and her father had made sure to use that empire to spoil Winter rotten. She was the exception in this scenario, not Sam. She was the problem. “I could go for a burger.”

The realization hit her in the face along with the ghost's words. ‘It really doesn’t take much to impress Sam by the way.’ Hell, she was probably questioning ever agreeing to go out with Winter at this point. It wasn’t just that, though, it was the fact that this ghost knew her date as well. And he was revealing things that she had not known about her. ‘Yeah, we watched your show.’ Somehow this felt like a privacy violation. She’d yet to actually speak to a ghost that was connected to someone she was close with or someone she was trying to get closer to and the medium wasn’t sure she liked it.

When she looked up to see the dark haired boy speaking with Henry, she figured her ghost had come out when he heard the extra voice being thrown in the mix. He was looking at the new arrival wearily while shaking his head at the boy’s question all the while Sam was staring at Winter expectantly and she realized she’d been silent for far too long. “I’m sorry, uh…Sam, did you used to watch my show?” Confirmation was needed. This ghost could always be trying to stir up drama for kicks so she needed to know if he really was part of Sam’s life at one point. Her usual directness would come in handy here.

—

Sam glanced back down at the food. With each passing moment she felt more guilty for not being a better actor. But when Winter agreed to cheeseburgers, she felt a wave of relief wash over her. Unlike that poor oversized crustacean that had been boiled alive for their enjoyment. Realizing she had been staring at it for way too long, she looked back up only to see Winter just sitting there. It had grown quiet, and now Sam was wondering if she had become a problem. Had this been worth it? They had so much chemistry at the Winter Festival, but now, here they sat across from one another on the most awkward date known to man.

“Your show?” It was certainly not what Sam had expected in reply, but if it would make things less awkward, then she’d answer. In fact, now that she thought about it, maybe that was the issue. Maybe Winter had assumed Sam was just a fan trying to hookup with someone famous, but that wasn’t it at all, and now she was questioning whether or not to say yes, “Uh…” She hesitated before answering, “Yeah…yeah, I did. Me and my best friend used to, but I swear that’s not why I wanted to go out with you. I just thought we had chemistry, and that you were cute…” She sank down in her seat, slightly embarrassed.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Sam.” Zach looked over at her with sad eyes. He really hadn’t intended to make things awkward, “She’s telling the truth. We used to watch late night reruns of the older seasons. And that show your mom or grandma or whoever was on. But Sam is being honest. She doesn’t date people unless she really finds some kind of connection with them. I saw the way you two were flirting that day. There was something…” Zach finally realized he needed to shut up when he noticed Sam shifting anxiously in her seat, looking as if she were about to get up and leave.

—

God, this was getting even more awkward, something Winter hadn’t even thought possible. Her silence coupled with Sam’s nerves about the show being brought up was nothing compared to how fast her mind was racing though. What the hell did she do now? Did she tell Sam she was talking to this friend of hers or would the girl think she was making things up? Or worse, would she start crying or something? Still, if she kept it to herself and Sam found out later on she knew it would make the girl angry that she hadn’t spoken up. This was an impossible situation for the medium, one that was starting to reveal the complexities that came with this type of ‘gift.’ 

Well, the cute comment was nice at least, distracting enough to make Winter smirk at her date. “I am hella cute, so nice of you to notice.” This best friend was talking again, apologizing to Sam, trying to assure Winter, and she took a deep breath to try and calm her thoughts. She watched Henry place a comforting hand on this guy’s shoulder when finally shut up and she wished her ghost had thought to do that to his mouth as he rambled on. 

“I didn’t think that. You don’t seem like the type. Trust me, I’ve met them before.” That could have been a reason she’d been drawn to Sam at first. Winter was so used to a certain type of person out in LA that when she’d seen something different in the girl she’d jumped on it. She glanced over to the two ghosts standing there before flicking her gaze back to her date, wanting this newbie to know she was speaking to him as well. “I felt the chemistry too. I have no idea what happened to it tonight but I have a feeling I messed up by trying to treat you like those people. You’re obviously different…which I like.”

She still wasn’t sure whether to reveal that she was seeing and hearing her friend right now. It was an impossible decision when it came to someone you barely knew so she hoped that maybe the ghost would give her some hints here. Even if she felt awkward about taking advice from someone Sam couldn’t see she wasn’t a good enough person to come right out and say it. “How about we go get that burger and I try to stop impressing you so much?”

—

This date had totally turned into something Sam hadn’t expected. She didn’t know if it was doomed from the start or if they just weren’t connecting, but when Winter lightened the mood with a joke, Sam eased up a bit. She hadn’t been on many dates before, and this had, hands down, been the fanciest one. One that the woman had probably been trying too hard to make perfect since Winter had offered up such a nice restaurant. But here they both were floundering around, until Winter had mentioned treating Sam like the girls out in LA. More so looking for someone famous. It made sense though, “Thank you for being honest. I don’t date anyone because of their status. In fact, I haven’t really dated much at all, and this has been the nicest place anyone’s brought me. I think I was probably trying a little too hard as well with the hopes of impressing you.” She laughed softly as she looked down at the table somewhat embarrassed.

Zach could see relief on Sam’s face, and it allowed him to breathe. Looking to Winter, he smiled softly, before turning his attention on Henry, “Thanks, man. I needed that.” With a nod, he looked back to his best friend. Things were starting to look up, and figuring he had done enough for the night, he decided to go haunt some guy he recalled from high school who had given him a hard time, knowing that Sam had the rest of the night under control.