Chapter Text
Tuesday, November 1st, 2016
Seattle, 1:30 a.m.
Half lidded eyes kept Finn coherent enough at a time like this, a yawn interrupting his workflow every minute or so. A yellow light above him only irritated his eyes further as he sat in the backseat of a stolen car, his older brother Luke in the front, not saying a word. Days, or more like nights like this were slow, quiet, and to put it plainly, awfully boring. As it turns out, cleaning a car was not a sufficient task to remove unwanted thoughts from your head and feel relaxed for a change. In fact, for Finn, it was doing quite the opposite. Working past midnight on his dad's demand was one thing. The recent happenings in his life– they were another- and this slow midnight job gave him nothing but time to think about all of it.
About how, as of last Friday, his boyfriend, whose sweater was keeping Finn warm through the night, was on the run. To where? Why? He didn't really know. Between all of this ruckus, Finn hadn't even spoken to Sean once since that school day, right before he'd gotten on the bus to get home, an hour or two before the brothers became a news headline with the most controversial topic on social medias. If Finn had known, he would've gone home with him. Been there for it, and hell, he would've even ran with them. Instead, he's left knowing nothing more than two people pronounced dead at the scene, Sean and Daniel nowhere to be found. And a good sense that whatever actually happened, isn't the same news being reported about.
God, if only Finn could just... stop thinking about it. He was only torturing himself further.
He takes a deep breath and looks down from the car seat he was wiping clean, another yawn as he spots a forgotten wrapper hiding under the seat in front of him. He leans over, hoping he could soon say he was done and get to bed, and grabs at the trash, adding it to the bag beside him with a sigh. Silence gnawed at his ears as he looked out the window, everything else around them dark and quiet, besides that aggravating light above his head. He almost jumps out of his skin with a buzz from his back pocket, a ring following the next second that was so loud it seemed to disturb even the air around him. Maybe, though, it was just his brother turning around after a bump to his head with the dashboard, an angry but lazy scold to go with it.
With an apology, he pulls the buzzing device from his pocket, eyes adjusting to the bright screen flashing in his face. His heart skipped a beat or four, reading the exact name he'd been waiting days to see calling, and in a rush he was out the car door and gone from the garage.
"Holy shit, holy shit." Finn paces, his breath leaving a soft cloud that disappears into the cold air while he swipes at his phone, instantly bringing it to his ear. Sure, there was a chance it was all an information trap by the police, but how would Finn live with himself if he didn't take that risk? "Sean?" He mumbles into the phone, cupping it to his ear to listen for any response. "Is that you? ..What-"
"Finn," Sean's voice seems to crack with a sigh, "You're up.." And thank god he was. Finally, there was that accent, accentuated from how Sean seemed to be holding back tears. Finn could collapse just from the sound of that voice if he let himself. Still, it'd been days with no texts or calls back- he had so much to say and ask that it got him lagging like an old computer for a good moment.
"Holy shit, Sean, uh- Where are you? Are you safe?"
"I'm in a motel.. w-with Daniel. He's okay.." Sean swiftly dodges the question.
So Finn tries again, "Are you?"
"N-no.." he huffs and retakes a deep breath, a slow exhale leading to quite a few soft whimpers escaping. "We're safe for now, but.. Finn, that- that cop fucking killed him, and-" another choked sob, "Then they blamed me for something I wasn't even conscious for... and I knew this would happen, that's why I ran–" he interrupts himself with a gasp, scoffing.
Finn tries to soothe him, a soft understanding voice, "I know, sweetie.. an' I know you two didn't do anythin' wrong."
Sean hums but stays silent at that, soft breathing from over the phone. Before he speaks, Finn could swear he heard a dog in the near background. "What about you.. are you alright?"
Is Finn alright? Well... is he? That seemed like the least important question to be asked after all of this. But when he thought about it.. the answer wasn't looking very great. Truly, this whole situation had put a huge dent in Finn's usual nonchalant attitude he tried to keep. Constantly overwhelmed ever since Friday, it was like a new feeling, and on top of that, he's either always at school or working his ass off in the garage for his dear old daddy. So.. is he holding his shit together? Sort of. But, is he okay?
"I-I don' know.... I miss you."
"I miss you too.. Fuck, I wish none of this happened.. Everything's so fucked up now. And.. it was Halloween- I'd probably fucking- be with you and Dad right now... He loves Halloween." Another sob Finn could just feel his heart break at, having to take a steadying breath.
"Sean, you need to come back..."
"I wish I could, Finn.. But you know what they'll do! And Daniel... what if they.." Separate them? The way they've already blamed it all on Sean with no evidence, that was already looking likely.
"Yeah.. I understand.." Finn just sighs, wiping the tears from his eyes. There was really no winning here, especially not for the brothers, was there? Medias the second they got the chance blamed it on them- children; Headlines with their names bolded and written next to the word suspect. It probably wouldn't have turned out much different in that aspect if they hadn't ran, and there would definitely be no point in them turning back now. What does that mean for them? Where could they possibly go? "Hey, you uh... have a place that you're off to?"
"I don't know.. um.. I thought maybe back to where my dad grew up, but I'm not sure how..." Sean mumbles, a hint to only the most famous place when it comes to the Diaz family. How could he forget all the times Esteban spoke of retiring back to his hometown, sweet México? And Sean's determination in finding out what stories his dad had to hide back in that town. Of course Finn remembers.
But, fucking shit, was that far away.
"Puerto Lobos?"
He could hear a slight laugh in the form of a sigh, "You remember..?"
"I remember everything with an' about you, Sean.." Finn chokes trying to hold back his tears. "Like.. that damn look on your face when I told you we were gonna hop a train.." He chuckles through the sharp sting at this throat. He even remembers watching Sean's smile when they made it official– thanks to Lyla's pushing, and how it stayed faintly when they kissed. That was just over one month ago, and now all Finn wished for was more time with the boy he felt he was falling for.
There's silence for a moment, Sean sniffling before he speaks softly. "I'm so fucking sorry, Finn,"
"About what? None of this was your fault.. it's the cops.. Pigs are always ruinin' everythin' they can.." Finn forces another chuckle through his tears, having to wipe them again so he didn't cry all over the phone.
"Yeah.. maybe you're right, but.."
"Maybe? I am, sweetie. No buts. Cops got nothing on you."
Just then a shout so loud even Sean could pick it up across the phone line. "Finnegan!" Shit, his dad. Finn thought he'd be passed out by now, or at least too hungover to check if he was in the garage. He guesses that's what he gets for assuming, though.
"W-what was that? Finn?"
Finn couldn't quite tell where his dad was yelling from, but wherever he was, he was definitely getting closer by the second.
"Sean... I gotta go, honey,"
"What?" Sean asks plainly, "But Finn–"
"There the fuck you are!" Suddenly, before Finn could manage to explain and hang up or even lower his phone, his dad was approaching quickly around the corner with a clenched fist. The way his face was twisted told Finn it would've been better off for Sean if he'd hung up quickly, but it was too late now, his body frozen after he drops his hand from his ear. Only footsteps were heard for a brief moment, a hand reaching out to push around at him.
"Woaah, Dad. Listen, I- I was just answerin' a call-" Finn backs away, hoping he'll be able to diffuse the situation, very easily proven wrong when his dad shouts over half of his explanation.
"Get back in the fuckin' house. You still got shit to do. I need this done by morning." He grabs Finn's arm and pulls him forward to the front door, squeezing his wrist enough to leave a mark while he grumbles, "Shit, I do the most work around this whole house, n' you can't even do this for me."
"Shit! Let go!"
His dad yanks him closer to the house as he pulls against it, getting shoved to the steps before his arm was finally freed, reddened. "Go! Now. And stop fuckin' cryin' like a baby, be a goddamn man for once."
"Okay, okay.. I will. See? Going..." Finn mumbles as he opens the front door, phone still clutched in his other hand as he walked in, just to get pushed up the last step into the house. The shove nearly broke his balance, but he caught himself as his dad followed him in and slammed the door, the walls rattling from it. Cautious, Finn watches his father sink back onto the couch with a beer in hand, eyes fixed on the TV enough to let him sneak into his room down the hallway just for another second to speak to Sean if he could get it.
"Sean... I really fuckin' need you.." he takes a deep breath, tears still finding their way down his face as soon as his door was closed. He didn't want to have to hang up, but if he doesn't... and who knew when he'd get this chance again, if ever.
Sean stutters, "I- but... Maybe we will see each other again."
"Don' say it like that. We will."
"I don't.. I don't wanna promise you that, Finn..." through the phone he could hear an actual sob, something he never knew to be so unbearable. Sean was one of the happiest people he's ever met, occasionally pissed off because of something Daniel did, sometimes shy. He's seen him vulnerable, but Finn's never heard his voice break exactly how it has today.
"You're headin' to Puerto Lobos? Make sure you get yourselves there. Safe. When I'm out of this hellhole–"
Another interrupting yell from his dad, coming from down the hall. "Finnegan.. now! Put the fuckin' phone away or I'll take it!"
"Shit, I gotta go."
"Finn, don't..." Sean's voice was soft and pleading, Finn swore he could feel his heart shatter, but he had no choice. All he could hope for was that this wasn't the last time they'd get to speak.
"Call me back, pup. Please." Halfway there to convincing himself not to, he hangs up before he can stop himself. The silence followed by the beep left an ache to his chest, tucking his phone back in his pocket with a heavy sigh.
Finn had no choice.
Looking back at that situation, he regretted putting the phone down first more than any mistake he'd ever made in his life. Even at the time– he had a feeling it would be the only chance they got to talk, of course it had to get cut so short by his own dad. And just like that, he turned out to be right. Only a day after that call police showed up to harass him over it, only to end in a swarm of them around his home, his family being put in handcuffs and thrown into a car. The best part of it all: his dad being the reason for everything, only for him to shove his sons under the bus when the time came.
Part of Finn always knew that if he didn't find a way to get him and his brothers out of the dumb shit their dad made them do for his own benefit, they'd end up in a jail cell at some point. He just... didn't expect it to be because of a simple phone call with his boyfriend. Or for his dad to find a way around the consequences while his sons got sent to jail.
But hey, fucked up shit happens sometimes.
Keeping that point of view in jail was one of the hardest things Finn's ever tried to do. Not that he succeeded- shit, that was a lost cause from the start. He's never felt this much anger before, cooped up behind bars with his free time consisting of avoiding actual dangerous people and sitting in the library all day, knowing that his dad was probably still at home, peaceful, and probably drunk as ever. The only solace he could reach out for and hang on to was that said 'father' was probably scrambling and stressing for a new way to make money, if not, a way to continue what he was using his children for, without them. He knew he probably felt better not knowing. At least though, now that they were away from him, he could tell it was having a good impact on his brother Zach. He'd started opening up more, talking and getting to know some of the people around them. It was nice to see something good happen through the betrayal they all felt.
Still, Finn felt more like he was driving himself insane already and he's only been locked up for two months or.. whatever. It felt a lot longer. Sometimes he used to forget how hard it really was to just roll with what life throws at you.
Thursday, May 11th, 2017
Nevada
The last thing Sean could remember before waking up in a hospital under FBI custody was blurry, but the scenario, seeing his brother so scared, guns pointed at them moments before... that all stuck. He could remember everything before those last few minutes, like how they got in such a stupid situation, Daniel having innocently pointed something out that Sean may have entirely escalated...
Before all of that, Sean had gotten lucky. He'd managed to run into Finn's best of friends on a long journey through the snow, learning that they'd also got out on the road and headed south after giving Sean the news that Finn was.. in jail now, for three fucking years, instead of with them. Mostly because of Sean, too. Still- just about the only good thing to happen to them so far was bumping into friends that could give him a job and a place to stay. But two times in one day was that ruined by Daniel. He couldn't really find the anger for it anymore, too caught up in where his now 10 year old brother could've gone, alone. For as long as he was in that hospital, he had nightmares on top of nightmares worrying about his brother, along with chronic headaches, sometimes migraines from the missing eye he had to get used to.
Now he was just as worried, if not more, having found out that his brother was brought to a church that exploited and changed him entirely to the point where he clearly can't think for himself. Honestly, Sean had no idea what his next move should be. So much was on his mind yet he couldn't even justify his other worries when his biggest problem was getting his brother out of a cult, and he didn't even know how to do it. Or figuring out how to reconnect and try to understand his mom through all of this chaos. The cherry on top, the nonstop ache in his chest from missing his father and the two people that would probably be able to get him through this if they were just here. It was stressing him out to the point where all he felt was physical and emotional exhaustion. Sleep wasn't even a solution if he tried, his mind was too alert- all he could think of was how he hadn't gotten Daniel back yet.
But if his mind wouldn't shut up long enough to let him get even a moment of peace, what else was there for him to do besides draw while he waited for Karen to get back? Maybe it would help in the long run, Sean hopes, rummaging through his backpack to grab his art supplies. Upon picking them from the bag, he tosses them to the bed and watches them settle, before moving over to pull open the curtains, blinking quickly as his single eye adjusted to the bright sun.
With a heavy sigh he sits down, shaking a momentarily pins and needles feeling in his drawing hand away. When it's gone, he reaches for his sketchbook and opens it up, knowing this was gonna be another challenging drawing that might not even come out how he wants it to in the end. He then pats around for his pen as he tries to direct this thoughts away from their natural course and come up with something to draw instead, but when his hand never brushes the object he knew he threw on the bed, he lets out a quick huff, jaw clenched as he stands up to look where it could've gone. Somehow, because that was his luck, his favorite pen was nowhere to be seen. But how? What the fuck? He knew he saw it land right next to his sketchbook.
He can't even catch a break when he tries to.
Fluffing the blanket was no help either. Not a single thing flew up and bounced onto the floor, and it wasn't right below his feet. All he wanted was to calm his nerves and now they were spiking as he frantically searched, not going far from the bed he put it on. The worst part was this was something that had been continuously happening to him, ever since he woke up in that hospital. Objects changing location when he swore he put them down somewhere else. Something new with his luck he was learning to get used to. Memory loss, or rather, going fucking crazy. And just like all those other times, when something finally did catch his eye, it was somewhere unexplainable, by the legs of the motel dresser where the TV was hung just above. A step closer and he was sure that was his favorite pen, but how did it get there? The complete opposite direction in which he threw it.
Reaching down for it, his hand is greeted with another stab of pins and needles, and once again he tried to shake it off and pick up the object he was here for. For a second he's left thinking he really was going crazy, watching the pen disappear right before his eye as soon as the feeling in his hand had gone away. His mind managed to freeze over like a lake, so many things happening underneath the stillness of it's surface. Sean quickly stands up, eyes widened as he tries to put the puzzle pieces together, brain working slowly while in so much shock.
All this time he thought it was just another curse he had to live with.
Was it actually just... him?
A step backwards, but when Sean blinks and cocks his head towards the open window, instead he was brought face to face with the bathroom door, head suddenly spinning as if he was black out drunk, knees now struggling to hold up his body weight. He looks down, coming to the realization that he himself had just moved without actually moving in an instant, but instead of trying to figure out what it all meant, he finds himself toppling over on the closest bed, crawling on like his life depended on it and praying he wouldn't throw up.
After whatever the fuck just happened, it was safe to say Sean wouldn't be drawing today.
Newspapers never told you everything. There was always something they were hiding, keeping from the public or lying about, things police don't tell getting misinterpreted, or even just biased reports that don't show the truth behind what happened. Finn always knew it, any media of news was only reporting what they wanted and could for their own benefit, and following along with the reports about the brothers for months now was teaching him that through experience.
The first time he'd seen a newspaper in jail with the brothers on it was when he found out about some explosion in California– he had to take a moment to let it sink in that Sean had run into his friends and managed another explosion. And then another to take in that he'd fallen into a coma and was under FBI custody, on top of that Daniel was missing, but that was all they really knew at the time. Lots of things weren't adding up for him, but it wasn't like Finn could play detective in jail just because he was curious. If he could've got Sean on the phone, spoken to him somehow, any way, maybe he'd be able to see past the bullshit the news was telling. Maybe Lyla was still fighting for Sean and Daniel online and posting dumb photos of them so people would look past what they were told.
The second time Finn saw the Diaz name on the headline of a newspaper was just short of two months later. It was an update, of sorts, to tell that Sean had woken up, lost an eye, and was soon to be taken to trial for murder in May. Oh, and that Daniel was still fucking missing and nobody knew where he was. A kid. Isn't that great?
Finn knew there had to be more to this story, but May rolled along and there was no updates. June, also nothing, and Finn was still rotting in jail waiting for anything about them to show up on the pile of newspapers in the library. He could only wonder, or distract himself with the people around him somehow. Just as he was trying today. Sitting in the lunch room and just talking with his brothers... it was nice to have them here with him at least.
When he was told there was a letter that came in for him, he suspected it to be from Cassidy, who had always been really good at staying in touch, or just another knock off apology from his father. To his surprise, when he got a hold of the envelope, it had a name of someone he wouldn't ever have guessed, someone he knew for a brief amount of time, but had proven himself a good friend- Jacob Hackerman. Stepping away to read it himself, he can only wonder what Jacob was sending a letter for, adrenaline rushing as he rips open the paper.
'Hey Finn,
I hope everything is going well. I should've written to you sooner but so much has happened these past few weeks. I just wanted you to know, the wolves are safe with the mother of the pack and thanks to them my sister is alive today. If you have anything you would like me to forward, send asap and I'll get it there!
Take care,
Jake'
Written in some sort of code to get the letter through inspection, Finn understood immediately what Jake was telling him, though he wished if it weren't for that quite logical rule Finn hated, he could've learned more about whatever happened and how it ended up this way. It was a huge relief to at least know Sean wasn't also in jail right now, though, however it was that he managed...
Now Finn was stuck wondering when the next newspaper will be out and how it will explain Sean running back into Jacob, and.. apparently his mother- who Finn was pretty sure abandoned them, but what does he know anymore. He was just so out of the loop and utterly confused. Sean must've been having a crazy time.
He wanted to ask, write a letter and be able to expect a response. Never mind a conversation about his recent 'crimes'- if Finn couldn't even risk putting Sean's name on the paper, how was he supposed to write anything to him at all? How was he meant to send a letter, knowing it's gonna be years for him to even get the chance to say anything else in person? It was such a puzzle, Finn almost put it off until later, and he might as well done so, having gotten nowhere after hours of trying to figure out what to say and how. Scribbles over words, so many he'd almost colored in the whole page- the paper could only end up as a rough draft in the trash at this point.
He kept trying, too many things running in his mind all at once to get a clear thought. Of course, he was more than happy to be getting this chance, but at the same time it felt like the fate of their relationship was in his hands. For the next two and a half years, Finn was locked up, and thanks to the officers knowing of his relationship with a 'murderer', he couldn't even tell Sean how he felt without risk. He has to find a way around it, to let him know he'd come find him as soon as he was able to, all without actually saying too much. He'll probably be sitting here all night...
Tuesday, July 4th, 2017
the border
After all that, Sean lost.
A stab in the heart when he heard his brother speak, "Don't turn back for me." And the tug of the knife leaving his wound, watching his brother jump from the moving car and get handled by officers as Sean kept driving...
He almost slammed on the breaks immediately, his body going against him and freezing up with a foot on the gas. His hands were gripped so tight to the wheel his bones were about to snap, while tears just fell with no effort, impairing his vision even more. All he could do was yell. Scream into the air and hope it got this feeling out.
This wasn't how it was supposed to end. He fought so hard to keep his brother safe, by his side, just for it to mean practically nothing if they were truly bound to get separated anyway. All he wanted was to bring his family closer, to explore what felt like a family legacy with his younger brother and be able to dig into his father's hidden secrets, together. With no worry of police and a safe place to use their powers as willed. He supposes he still gets all of that stuff, just.. alone.
That didn't seem like much of a good thing, it left the lingering thought of all the possibilities that could happen to his brother now that he's been taken into police custody. He's too young for juvie, but would police really just.. let him off? Especially after not being able to arrest Sean? Unlikely.
With that, there was this nagging thought telling him he should've just surrendered. He'd rather be locked up and able to see his brother for regular visits, than free and... well, probably never again. Who knows, maybe he would've even gotten thrown in jail with Finn in Seattle. Or maybe the police would've known better than to give Sean any type of comfort.
Tears were still pouring as he drove, the car going a good 90 miles per hour on this long desert road, navigating with trust and blurry eyes. Sean had no idea how long he spent yelling at the world, it being no help to that gut wrenching feeling in his stomach, before he feels the car tug and start resisting.
Something went very wrong.
He takes his foot off the gas, letting the car slow by itself, a clanking noise making his anxiety spike so high he almost stepped on the breaks and let the car spin out, no regards to what would happen. When he takes his foot off the breaks, slowing the car to a normal 40 miles now, he listens over his own sobs, testing the noise at a slower speed. He finds himself momentarily confused when the car doesn't stay at 40 miles an hour, his foot rested perfectly on the gas, watching the speed continuously drop. He steps on the gas some more, a rev, but the number keeps falling... His first thought?
Fuck.
He fights the urge to punch at something while he pulls to the side and waits for the car to roll to a stop, beginning to lose his will with a heavy sigh. Frantically, he tries taking the keys out and putting them back in, the car stuttering and shaking, each time failing. That was really it? Sean was in the middle of nowhere. He expected to at least get to a town before the car broke down, but this was just his luck, as great as ever.
Angrily, he throws the keys out the destroyed door Daniel jumped from, hearing them clink together once they hit the desert ground. Though it took a second, soon enough he was sobbing again, yelling pathetically like a child having a tantrum. It didn't really matter how dumb he looked or sounded- he was alone. Completely, now. He'd lost literally everyone in his life some way or another in just the span of a year. He'd thought he'd faced enough torture from the universe already, yet his brother still got taken away from him at the very end.
Part of him, at this point, was hoping the cops were following behind his trail this whole time. Any minute now, they would show up and... he'd just go with them. Get to see his brother again. So he waited. He sat there, and just waited, never moving from the seat he was in. His only other choice was to get walking, and frankly he couldn't bring himself to do so. He watched the clouds move and change shape, the sun fall, just sitting there, breathing. That was all he could handle doing at the moment.
After what felt like hours of burning in the heat of the cramped car, his stomach growled at him for food, followed by a sharp pain. He was getting really hungry, really bored, and really fucking hot. As much as Daniel got on his nerves, he wished the kid were here to complain too. Sean's suffering wasn't enough to get him to move.
"Hijo."
Sean's head shot up, the voice sounding so real it made him glance all around. Nothing. He was just hearing things, going crazy, missing his family more than anything. He lets out another cry, slamming his head into the steering wheel with a yelp. His stomach kept growling, so desperate for food it made him shuffle, a twisting pull inside. Annoyed enough, he grumbles and sits up, reaching for his bag in the back and placing it in the empty seat beside him, the one his brother should've still been in. He huffed before it turned to a cry, lazily rummaging through the bag, using his sense of touch to find any food they stored for the trip since his working eye was too blurry to identify anything.
Suddenly a paper slides across his finger and leaves a stinging cut, his hand nearly ricocheting from the bag, ragged breath taking a second to calm as he shakes his hand once to get over the unsuspected pain, forgetting all about his hunger. He then reaches back down carefully, searching for the paper that had just given a cut to his poor finger. When he pulls it out and unfolds it, a wipe to his eyes, he recognizes the writing in an instant and yet again, almost broke into another sob.
Finn's letter.
Just another person he lost getting through this hell...
Hi sweetie,
I might be stuck in jail for three years, with no idea what you've been up to, but I know you're still fighting and as always I'm proud of you! And I miss your ass, so keep going! I hope the wolf family is doing okay!
I'd be there for you if I could. However it'll be a loooong time before I get to wander again, so I'll have to figure out what's next after I pay my dues here. I'll let you know, okay?
I was hoping I could come visit when I'm a free man, you know my love for a beach and some coconut cocktails! As long as you're around. We gotta smoke a bowl. I promise I'll get you that sweatshirt back.
I think about you more than you might believe.
Finn
+1 206-555-0101 ;)
That fucking winky face... it's so.. Finn. It's obvious too, that number was likely a dead end now that he's in prison, but he was the type to get a kick out of flirting over a letter. Dare Sean say, it was kind of cute, his commitment to always saying or showing how he felt. God, Sean missed him. All that time running in the US and worrying about Daniel, he never really gave himself a chance to think much of it, though it was always eating him up inside, alike the loss of his dad. Now he supposes he doesn't have to worry about Daniel's needs so much anymore, it wouldn't kill him to allow himself to think about Finn for a bit...
He rereads the letter, as many times as he can until his head hurts from staring at it. The way it calmed his tears and allowed Sean to catch his breath was like magic, everything about the paper really giving him the comfort he needed in the moment. The handwriting was messy, different size letters and random capitals in the middle of words- Sean would say it matches perfectly with Finn's character. And the sweetness and concern mixed with the dumb shit... It was strange how calm it had gotten him. How it made him want to keep going, get to his father's house, just so Finn could one day have a welcoming place to stay.
Well, he had to do something at some point anyway. Might as well be now, when he has at least some motivation.
He folds up the paper and stuffs in back in his bag where it would be safe, then zips it up and throws it over his shoulder. He looks around to make sure he's gotten all of his stuff, spotting Daniel's bag sitting in the backseat, stuffed with toys and lots of other shit... He couldn't bring himself to leave it, reaching over for it before he pushed the car door open. This was bound to be a long journey.
Reaching Puerto Lobos even after entering Mexico was much more difficult than Sean expected. It was almost the same as it was for him in the US- main transport being his feet, being low on money and having to pick up a quick job, running all over the place just to find one... Abandoned buildings were his saviors, allowing him a quiet, sheltered place for him to sleep before he had to get right back up and go. He'd stay at the same place for a few nights while he worked, the rest was beneficial, but harder to get the longer it went on.
It was all too similar, yet so different without Daniel by his side. Most of the way to Puerto Lobos was long roads just like the one he took to Haven Point. His only choice was to continuously walk to any nearest cities on the way- and without Daniel complaining every step he took, each stop for rest it got tougher to get back up again. He'd contemplated stealing a car to get there sooner, but he couldn't risk doing anything illegal in the country he might actually be safe in. Instead he had to stock up on supplies and walk constantly for what felt like years in the grueling heat, only able to truly relax at nightfall.
When he finally made it, or hoped he did, finding his dad's house was as much of a nightmare. It took us hours of lifelessly dragging himself around to search each beach, just for the house to look no better than what he'd been squatting in on his way here. To his surprise, the next few months felt like the universe was maybe trying to apologize for all the shit he'd gone through. Just when he really needed it, his luck finally came of use when he met his father's cousin, Eduardo. He'd heard tons of stories, but he's always been sure there was a lot left out. Eduardo gave him a temporary job, offering to teach Sean how to fix cars up like his dad, while slowly Sean found the motivation to clean up the house a bit and make it look somewhat nice. It was a start- until he was able to save up a great deal of money and learn enough to start his own shop, with Eduardo's help the whole way. It took over a year to get it completely done, but when Sean was finally able to pay the bills to the house himself and buy his own groceries, it finally felt like an actual accomplishment rather than a huge weight lifted from his shoulders.
Sean even started to make friends– maybe not with the best people, but they were there for him after years of feeling alone. They even gave him a trusting place to get good weed from, while often giving him a new type of drug to try out. He only went along with it at the start because they would get his mind to shut up now and then. When he really thought about it, maybe they weren't the best of friends or greatest influences... but it was better than having nobody. His best friend in particular, Carlos, had actually been very helpful to him in other circumstances. He'd spread the word about Sean's shop and ended up bringing a shitload of money right to his door. He'd even be there for Sean if he wasn't in a good mood and knows about all of the shit he went through in the US.
After everything, he still couldn't say that he's not the most thankful for the introduction to magic mushrooms. Other drugs they gave him to try didn't really catch his interest, some were way too intimidating, until he was given shrooms, that was. They were scary at first, the sudden change in how he saw and perceived the world whenever he'd take them, but he quickly started to enjoy the color it brought to everything around him. The peace he felt on shrooms was like no other, he thought maybe they could even help him rediscover the beauty the planet he lived on had to give. Something he fully lost the moment he watched his brother jump out of the car.
It wasn't like.. an addiction or abuse of some kind, not to him, but some days he'd get drunk, and the others he'd get high. He supposed it was fine, he wasn't becoming dependent on any of them, and he wouldn't if he doesn't get drunk or high multiple days in a row...right? He just had to split up the way that he used, for he could barely handle being sober long anymore. There wasn't anything to worry about, everything seemed to be getting better (as long as he was on drugs) and that was all Sean could ask for.
If you asked Sean, this whole new drug thing was actually going really well. He strayed away from anything too strong and addictive, working all day then getting fucked up one way or another, it actually helped reduce all the stress going on from the moment he wakes up. It even gave him one of the best gifts he could ever get: a chance to see his father again. How it worked was a mystery, but he couldn't really question it when an exact replica of his father would pop out of nowhere when he was on psychedelics and start dad-ing his way onto Sean's nerves all the time. No doubt, It had to be him, and he said it's "easier to get through" to him when he's high. Sean wasn't really sure what that meant, he was just glad he picked up the drug for it to lead him to reconnecting with his dead father.
Said dead father would never admit he was also glad his son got high in the first place, instead always nagging at him to not take them so often. It would sometimes lead to dumb arguments, but sometimes it's what a relationship needs. It was weird to say that his relationship with his father was stronger than ever when his father was... dead. It was though. Sean learned to appreciate literally everything on his time on the road, something as big as getting to see his dad again would never be taken for granted if he could help it. It made him want to take the shrooms more, even after experiencing why bad trips were called bad, though he did wish he didn't need to be high to see his dad.
There was really just one problem he couldn't let go of. His past- friends and family, it was all gone in the blink of an eye. A whole new restart that he's managed.. so far. Sean had bad days, a lot of them, but he told himself this was just the way it was. The way it had to be. The last times he tried to contact anyone, he'd gotten them both in trouble. He couldn't think to so much as risk that again for any of them.
In no world was he happy about this, but he was starting to accept it for what it meant. Condition himself to understand. He just has to not dwell on it so much, make the most out of what he has now. Nothing lasts forever..
No matter how hard he tries, whatever he tells himself, the drugs he distracts himself with... deep down he couldn't shake that stupid fucking hole in his heart.