Chapter 66: Satisfied

I sit on a bench at the park, watching Penelope go up and down on the seesaw with Carina while Molly pesters Milo to push her higher and higher on the swing set. He rolls his eyes but otherwise doesn't complain, not when he keeps trying to get on my good side. He keeps hoping I'll bring him with me on a short supply run, but with everything that's going on and with what recently happened with Janine's nut job of a sibling, I'm not letting him leave Abel's walls anytime soon.

Janine hasn't said much more about Tom, and I'm not dumb enough to ask. Even Sam has stayed silent in asking about her brother. I think it's best we all just leave that alone for now, especially with us still needing that equipment for the Tavington machine, not to mention at how close we are to Christmas.

Three days away, and I still have no gifts for the children. I don't have gifts for anyone, not the kids or Sam or Kefilwe or Caleb, not that I could give Caleb his gift anyway, seeing that he's on the Comansys ship. Still, it'd be nice to be able to tell him I got him something...

It's odd, knowing he won't be here for Christmas. He was here in Abel last Christmas. But then again, Archie was alive last Christmas. Sarah was alive last Christmas. Simon was here with us last Christmas. Van Ark was still a problem last Christmas.

It all seems like it happened a lifetime ago... It seems like it all happens so quickly, that what happened not even a year ago seems like it happened decades ago.

It's hard, knowing this, knowing we're going on without them-without Archie and Sarah and Simon and Esteban and everyone else that we've lost. We've lost so many people, so many lives. I know Simon's not dead, but the chances of seeing him again are... slim. He's gone off with Amelia, and they both know they aren't exactly well loved by the people here at Abel. So why would they want to come back?

But Archie... Sarah... I still hear them sometimes, in my head. I don't hear them as much as I used to, but I still hear them. Sarah sometimes talks to me when I look at the gift she left for me after she died. I still don't know when I'll use or when it will actually become useful. Either way, I have it, and that's what she wanted.

"Hey there, Five-o."

The use of that nickname snaps me out of my thoughts, and when I look up I see a smiling Australian man standing near my bench. I send Owen a small wave in reply, and he wipes off the the bits of snow that's still on the bench and takes a seat.

"I'm surprised to see you out here. I thought you didn't like the cold," He says, and I simply shrug in reply.

"I don't, but I have on a thick jacket and the sweater Jody made for me, so I'm alright for now. Plus Penelope wanted me to come out here so she could play with Carina and Molly." I pause as I watch the three run around in the snow, while Milo takes a chance to sit down near the small slide with his sketchbook. "What're you doing out here?"

"Just finished a visit with Dr. Lobatse. Thought I'd walk around for a bit."

"Oh, yeah. How's your leg healing up since Amelia..."

"Great. I'm doing fantastic, really. They just don't want me going on any big missions right now because of, you know, everything that's going on. I'm hoping I'll get to do something soon though. It gets kinda boring going on food supply runs nearly everyday."

I nod. "I bet."

"Speaking of injuries, how's your wrist? I heard you hurt it when you were on that tech run with Janine."

"Oh, yeah," I say, rubbing my wrist, which has healed basically overnight. "I uh, just sprained it. Well, I didn't. Janine's brother, Tom, did. Maxine says it was just a small sprain and I was just being dramatic."

It's odd, with how bad it hurt, I could've sworn Tom snapped the bone, but maybe my pain tolerance just isn't as high as I thought it was. Maybe I just overestimated how hurt I was. I mean, I must have. Maxine told me yesterday it was just a sprain, and I feel perfectly fine now.

"Lucky you. Although, you always make it out okay, even when it seems impossible." Owen laughs. "It's almost like you're invincible or something."

"Or something," I reply with discomfort. "I'm good at what I do, but that's only because God's watching over me. I'm not untouchable. No one is."

"Yeah, from mind control especially." He perks up. "Hey, Kefilwe was talking to me when she was checking my leg and she said they might have a way to make people immune to mind control through hypnosis."

Hope blossoms in my chest, and I tip my head to the side in curiosity. "Hypnosis? Has this theory been tested?"

He shakes his head. "No, it's supposed to be tested on Christmas Eve. I uh, think they're going to ask you to be their guinea pig."

I blink. "Why do you think that?"

"B-because you're you. You-you've survived things that most people wouldn't. I mean, you saved me from being hit by a train, you killed a man who actually made himself immortal, not to mention you survived his experiments. If it goes wrong, you're one of the few people who'd make it out alive."

"You think too high of me."

"A lot of Abel thinks of you like this."

"You shouldn't. I'm just a person. Nothing special. I mean, I've heard people say I sound different, but that's because I'm American... who lived in the South. Other than that I'm no more different than any other runner."

Owen shrugs. "If you say so, but they probably are going to ask if you'll be the one they put under hypnosis to see if you can be made immune."

"Probably," I say, internally groaning. It's not that I don't want to be immune, but we'll be trying to make me immune via a way we aren't sure works. I want to make sure I'll be immune to mind control. I want to make sure Moonchild won't get ahold of me.

But sadly that's not what I'm being given, so I'm going to just have to take what I can get. If it'll make me unable to be mind controlled, then it'll be enough.

I look around, seeing how red Penelope's cheeks have become, and how Molly's nose is running. I stand up, deciding it might be best if I get the children to go inside. I'm immune to sickness, but they are not, and getting sick is not something you want to do in an apocalypse.

"I need to get the kids inside," I say, sending Owen a glance. "Are you coming?"

He stands, but shakes his head. "No, I'm going to head over to the track. I have a run tomorrow so I know I need to do a little something today to keep up my strength."

"Are you sure you should be doing that when it's this cold out?"

"I'll be fine. Don't worry about me, Five. I'll see ya later, yeah?"

I nod. "Yeah."

I walk over to Milo first, since he's still sitting near the slide in own little world, drawing. I can only imagine what he's conjured up in that head of his this time. He's so good at it. He brings so much happiness in his drawings, so much hope.

He and Sam are alike in that aspect. They're good, even with the things they've seen, the things they've lost. They still have hope.

Now if only Milo wanted to be a radio operator instead of a runner...

"Ready to go inside?" I ask, and he nods, cheeks flushed from the cold and lips slightly chapped. I call for the girls, and all three of them come running our way, slightly disappointed at the news that playtime is over.

Still, I'd rather have them be disappointed than get sick right before Christmas.

"So, what're you guys hoping to get for Christmas?" I ask, hoping to get some answers from my two, at least. I feel really terrible for not getting anyone anything yet, so if I can maybe go grab something tomorrow or Christmas Eve during my hypnosis mission-if I'm the one they ask to go on it-I can bring up their spirits this season.

"I want a new doll," Carina says. "And I want to see Jaime. I miss him... and Jasper."

I cringe. "Yeah. Maybe-maybe you'll get a new doll, Carina. And Jaime's working really hard as king, but maybe he'll call you on Christmas, or you can ask if you can call him."

She smiles broadly at that, and I force the most convincing smile I can muster in reply. The poor girl's been through a lot for only being six, but Penelope's only seven, and Molly's four, and Milo is thirteen. They've all been through a lot for children their age.

"What about you, Penelope? What do you want for Christmas? Do you want a new doll as well?"

"No, I like my teddy," She replies softly. "I want Caleb back, but I know you can't do that. I'd like a pretty dress. A pink one, like the one from The Little Mermaid!"

I nod, my heart sinking while my head wonders if asking this question was a good idea. "That's a good gift idea. What about you, Milo? Do you need colored pencils? Paper?"

"I do, but that's not what I want."

"Then what do you want?" I ask, and he sends me a knowing look. I sigh. "I know, but you know the rules. No one under sixteen-"

"Yeah, I know. No one under sixteen is allowed to be a runner. I know... But if you could just let me prove to you-"

"It's not just me that won't allow it," I interrupt.

"But you're Head of Runners. Don't you have some sort of say?"

I have to refrain from giggling. When's the last time I used that title? When I accepted it after I threw Sarah's ashes into the ocean? I'd almost forgotten I was Head of Runners since it really does nothing for me. It's just a title, just as I am a runner.

"I don't have enough say to convince Janine to let a thirteen-year-old out on a mission," I reply. "Plus, with Moonchild and now Janine's brother out there, I don't think it's best for you to try running out of Abel. Not right now... So is there anything else you'd like for Christmas? Maybe a book or a game or some new shoes? Well, not new, but newer that what we have here?"

"Sure," He sighs, and I frown. "A new book would be nice, I guess. Be nice to have one that's mine and not the library's."

I nod, even though I'm still not super satisfied with his answer. Still, I don't want to have this argument right now, not while we're entering the Rec room with other teens and children. This is supposed to be the holiday season, with happiness and joy and chatter about what we hope we might have at Christmas dinner.

Even with some of our people on the Comansys ship, Abel is growing. We have almost 250 people here now, so we have more workers in our greenhouses and farms, which means more animals and plants to feed Abel's hungry people.

Also, it means we have more people wanting to get festive for Christmas. The Rec room actually is decorated in all white, green and red, with a small, faux Christmas tree in the corner. There aren't many ornaments on it, but a lot of the children have made paper ornaments in attempt to make it prettier.

This would actually seem like a nice Christmas if we weren't being hit with blow after blow of terrible surprises.

Molly tugs on Penelope's hand, pulling her towards another group of girls playing with dolls and stuffed animals and Polly Pocket toys. Carina quickly follows, eyes bright with joy, forgetting her sadness about not getting to see Jaime this Christmas.

Milo stands beside me, his sketchbook still in hand. His eyes are trained on Polly and Zach, who are putting together a puzzle, both unaware of the younger boy's stare. He wants to go talk to them, but he's not going to-not without my permission. Even though I've given him permission to spend time with the two a few times before, Milo knows I'm still wary of them. They've been less troublesome since their adventure in the mall, but I know they still have that rebellion in them, and so does Milo.

He's everything I can't control. He just doesn't know that, thankfully.

"Mom," He says slowly, carefully, "would it be alright if I..."

"Yes, that's fine. Just stay inside. I don't want any of you getting ill, considering how the hospital's running low on antibiotics and vitamins."

He nods, perking up at that. He takes a step towards them, but then stops, lips pursing together for a small moment. His brown eyes slide over to me again.

"I think I know what I really want for Christmas."

I cross my arms, looking at the brunet curiously. "Oh, yeah? And what is it?"

"You could let me hang out Polly and Zach... without having to ask every time..."

I hum. "I'll think about it."

That's enough for him it seems, by the smile that appears on his face. "Thanks. Uh, would you mind putting this back in my dorm for me? I don't want to lose it. I usually put it under my bed so the younger kids won't get ahold of it."

He hands me his sketchbook, turning on his heel and heading over to his friends before I have a chance to interject. I huff, but decide to deliver the sketchbook back to the children's dorms, since I know Milo would never forgive me if I lost this.

I leave the Rec room, trying to keep my teeth from chattering as the cold welcomes me yet again. My jacket is thick, and the sweater Jody made for me is quite warm, but with nothing to keep my thoughts away from the cold, it finds a way to seep through my clothing and into my skin, into my bones.

So I do my best to push the thoughts of the cold away, like I did when I watched the children play. I open up Milo's sketchbook, flipping through the drawings and sketches. I know he won't mind. He's allowed me to see almost all of his drawings before, and the fact that he gave me the sketchbook without any hesitation shows he doesn't really care if I see what's inside.

I flip through the pages. Most of them are drawings of people in Abel, or places that he's seen in books. There's a few of the stores in the mall, and one of me smashing a zombie's head in with that long stick when Milo had my axe. How he remembered it well enough to be able to draw it is beyond me, but he's always been good at remembering the little details.

I go still at the sight at one of his older drawings. It's of him, Willis, me and Penelope, as well as Janine, Sam, Maxine and Simon speaking together in the background. It reminds me of the drawing he gave me last Christmas. Of course, it's not the exact same, but that's what it reminds me of.

Some of his newer drawings have Willis in it as well. Some even have Sarah and Archie in them. I notice their forms look less precise than other characters and buildings, as if they're not really there. I look at the drawings in pity, sighing through my nose.

Sometimes I think Milo forgets about his brother, and how he died. I feel like in his hopes to be a runner, he forgets that it was Willis's desire to be a hero that got him killed.

But seeing this, I know I was wrong. Milo hasn't forgotten. He knows, and I think because of this, he wants to be a runner even more. He wants to do this for himself and his twin.

But I can't lose him. I've already lost so much. I have to keep him safe.

I'm going to keep him safe. I'm going to stop Moonchild to keep him and Penelope safe-alive.

I touch Willis's face in the drawing. "I couldn't save you, but I can save them. And I'll do whatever it takes to keep them alive. I won't fail... not again."

•

"I never thought I'd meet someone who was this bad at solitaire."

"Shut up. I doubt you're any better."

I snort as Sam stares at the cards in frustration. Since it's not Demons and Darkness night, he's been trying to find a way to entertain himself. Since Owen found a deck of cards-a full set, mind you-on his last supply run, Sam thought they'd be of good use to keep him occupied.

Well, it's worked, but only because he apparently sucks at solitaire.

"Also, it's been years since I played this game, so... yeah."

"But it's solitaire. It's like the easiest card game since like... matching."

"I was terrible at finding the matching cards," He says with a shake of his head. "I never could remember where they were."

"Yet you're so good at remembering other things, like quotes from your favorite T.V. shows or when I'm in kitchens so you can make a request for some of messiest recipes possible."

He shrugs. "I just am good at remembering the important things. But yeah, terrible at matching, terrible at solitaire. But I used to be really good at those card magic tricks."

I smirk. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah. I mean, a lot of people thought I was a huge nerd, but I was thought it was cool, 'cause, you know, magic."

"Well, I don't believe in magic, but I wouldn't mind if you showed me some of your card tricks."

He sends me a raised brow, but I see the way his eyes sparkle at my comment. He picks up the cards and shuffles them up before holding them out to me.

"Pick a card, any card," He says, flashing me a grin. I huff out a laugh and pick out a card. "Now look at it, but make sure I don't see it."

I flip the card over, pursing my lips. The Ace of Spades. Not sure if that's a sign or not.

"Alright. Now have you studied it? Will you be able to remember it?"

I nod.

"Good. Now put back in the deck. Make sure I don't see it."

I do as told, biting my lip to keep from smiling. He shuffles the cards again, then picks out a card and shows it to me.

"Is this your card?"

I shake my head. "No, it's not."

He looks back at the card, a two of diamonds. "You're right. It's not. In fact, none of these cards are."

He shows me the cards he has, and he's right. The Ace of Spades isn't in this deck.

"So where's my-" My world's die in my throat when Sam places his fingers on my neck, lightly trailing them down my shoulder, my arm, all the way down to the end of my wrist.

He pulls the card out from the sleeve of my jacket.

"Here is your card," He says, grinning mischievously.

"How'd you do that?" I ask, after I remembered how to start breathing again.

Sam keeps his grin on. "A magician never tells his secrets."

"Oh, so you're a magician now?"

"Who says I've never always been one... deep down?"

"Maybe deep, deep down," I laugh. "But you must've had a lot of fans with those kind of tricks."

He shakes his head. "I already told you. A lot of people thought I was a huge nerd."

"Well, I don't."

"No, you think I'm a dork."

"Who said that was a bad thing?"

His lips twitch, and I feel a small bit of pride swell within me. I like it, being able to make him smile, being able to make him happy. It's one of the greatest things I can do. It's one of the few things I know I can do.

But then I start thinking about the things I can't do-the things I'm uncertain of. I can't bring back the people I care about. I can't bring Caleb home for Christmas. I can stop myself from being dying, but I have no idea as to what I have to do to evade my fate...

"Uh oh. Something's wrong. What's wrong?" Sam asks, and I force a smile and shake my head.

"Nothing's wrong."

"Don't lie to me. You had that look. That-that 'I'm thinking about something and it really bothers me but I won't say anything about it unless I'm pestered constantly' look."

"That's a really specific look."

"I've learned your looks well, love."

"It's nothing, really."

"Five." Sam narrows his eyes at me, his lips pressing into a thin line-a silent warning. I sigh in defeat.

"I'm just worried about Christmas. I haven't gotten anyone anything." It's not the complete truth, but it is still true.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that," He says with a wave of his hand. "I don't think anyone will be angry at you for not getting them a gift. I mean, I'm not angry at you for not getting me a gift, not with all the hero stuff you've been doing."

"It's just stuff. Doesn't make me a hero." I flop down on the cot. "But I want to make this Christmas special for the kids-at least, I want to distract them from the fact that this is their first Christmas without Willis."

His face scrunches up, and he wrings out his hands awkwardly. "Ah, I-I see. It's going to be a Christmas without a lot of people, actually."

"Yeah... and I was just getting used to how Christmas was last year."

His brown eyes go wide. "Oh, that's right. This-this is only your second Christmas here at Abel. God, it just-it just-well, it seems like you've been here way longer."

"Yep. I've only been here about a year and a half-well, a little longer."

"So much has happened. It just feels like, um, that-that you've been here for years."

I nod, wrapping my arms around myself. "And yet I can remember that day when Willis died like it was yesterday... If I'd just been a little faster."

"You can't blame yourself for that," He says with a frown, and I respond with a frown of my own.

"He'd be here if I'd have saved him."

"There was nothing you could have done."

I don't reply, and I hear Sam sigh heavily as he walks over to me, crouching down to eye level. I refuse to look at him. He places his hand under my chin and gently lifts my chin to get me to meet his eyes.

"Five, you can't change the past. And-and you have so much on your plate. I mean, you know Moonchild is going to try to put you under mind control, you can see visions of the future. You-You've seen your own death for God's sake! You can't let past guilt weigh you down even more, especially after everything you've done.

"I mean, you adopted three kids-two of which are still alive-and you're only seventeen!" He pauses. "You're... you're seventeen. You're just a kid."

He pulls his hand away, and I flinch as if I've been slapped.

Maybe it's because I care for him so much, but him seeing me as a kid-a child.... The words stab at my soul like knives.

"I... I forget that sometimes. After everything you've done, I just... I forget," He says, and he looks like he wants to grab my hand, but keeps from doing so. "You've been through too much for someone your age."

"You're not that much older than me, you know."

"Yeah, but I've also not been experimented on and tortured and had multiple people try to kill me."

I scoff. "I'm a runner. That's a part of the job. I mean, yeah, the multiple scars and my ear that's missing some of its cartilage sucks, but I'm used to it."

"But I don't want you to be. I want you to be okay. I want you to be happy."

I give him a small smile. "I am happy. I mean, I'm happier here in Abel than I ever was at Mullins, or the A.M.T.B. The only thing you have to worry about is this hypnosis thing going well."

He suddenly becomes reluctant to respond. "Ah. You heard about that. And I thought New Canton people were gossips." He crosses his arms. "You know they're still wondering when your wedding with Phil is supposed to be?"

I snort. "They can keep wondering. But yeah, I've heard about the hypnosis thing. Well, I've heard some of it. Do you think it'll work?"

He shrugs. "Maybe. Hopefully. I'd do anything to find away to make my runners safe again, to make you safe again."

I nod, not giving any other reply. Instead I tap the spot beside me, and Sam takes the hint and sits beside me. When I lay my head on his shoulder, I feel him tense, and my eyebrows knit together.

"What's wrong?"

"I uh, nothing. N-nothing," He says. I know he's lying. "You're uh, you're just cold."

He's still lying... That's not it.

"I'm always cold."

He chuckles. "Yeah. Yeah, you are." He slowly, carefully wraps his arm around my shoulders. "Let's just stay like this for awhile. You're bound to get warmer."

I let out a long breath, not completely contempt. "I really do hope so."

A/N: Hey! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Please be sure to vote and comment! Thank you and have a blessed day!