Monster In Me

An Until Dawn Fanfiction

Synopsis: Josh is determined to make things right with the people he's wronged. Turns out, once you've terrorized your friends and almost gotten them all killed, they're not exactly too thrilled with the prospect. Good thing Sam's willing to help. Josh POV.

Genre: Dramedy

Ending: All Survive, +Josh. Mostly canon, except Josh makes it out of the mines unharmed.

Pairing: [Josh/Sam]

Rating: T/M; Cursing, Sensuality, Sexual Innuendo

A/N: Heeeere we are. Sorry it took so long, I had a lot going on at the end of summer with my wedding and all.

Never thought we'd get here, but alas. This tale must come to an end. As you probably know, each of these chapters are named after a song. If you didn't listen to any of them, then I highly suggest you listen to this one. Because it's amazing.

Also. Question - did any of you have a favorite song from the fic? Maybe introduced to one or two you'd never heard before? I am curious to know if any became a regular listen on your spotify playlist (BTW all these songs are on my spotify playlist of the same title). Cheers!

*Considering* two prequels… don't quote me on that. One would be before the twins go missing and after. But honestly… I just don't know quite yet. This fandom has kinda died out, ya know?

Chapter 16:

Warmest Part of the Winter

aka

My kinda-sorta Epilogue

aka

It Takes Getting Everything You Ever Wanted and Losing it to Know What True Freedom Feels Like

aka

That One Time I Put The Broken, Shattered Pieces Of My Life Back Together

aka

Everyone Deserves A Happy Ending

aka

...Even Psychopaths Like Me

October - Three Months Later

Dr. Finke looks pleased after I tell him that most of my side effects to my new meds have subsided. It was a rough transition at first. It's why I haven't been around much, haven't been too talkative. But now that they've leveled out, I'm almost even comfortable as I sit there in my therapy session (other than the fact that it's still cold as shit in here).

Oh yeah.

And it's also my last therapy session.

Finke really went to bat for me, to say the least. He visited me in the hospital and we talked. A lot. About everything. About nothing. But more importantly, I told him the truth for once.

I told him about the creatures and my sisters. I told him about the hallucinations and the voices and the how I wasn't trying to kill myself. Once we talked about that part, I began to realize: I might not have been trying to kill myself consciously, but there definitely was a part of myself I was trying to destroy that night.

Wow, I honestly can't even believe it's been three whole months since that night - it went by so fast.

I sit in the same old, familiar chair and listen to Finke tell me about his grand-daughter's Frozen-themed birthday party this last weekend (turns out he's actually a pretty cool dude, when I finally take the time to listen to him. You miss out on a lot when you're the one doing all the talking - he says I still suffer from slight narcissistic personality disorder, but I think he's just jealous so I let that one go in one ear and right out the other).

Either way, I realize just how lucky I am to have him as a doctor.

Sure, he's not too stylish and he's a little hard to read and… well, honestly, I'm never going to totally understand why he asked me about my jerking off habits that one time… but he's a good doctor, on the most part. He told my case worker about what happened - told them that too much was taken from me at once and that with the passing of my dad, the social isolation aspect of my punishment should be lifted.

Of course, she laughed in his face.

I'm still crazy, ya know?

That's just always gonna be a part of me and I'll have to get used to that. It's not so much about alleviating the crazy so much as accepting it - although, some of my crazy really did need need to go. Pills help… at least, the right pills help.

Anyways, I wasn't getting anywhere with my caseworker until, simply because I asked them to, Em, Chris, Ashley, Mike, Matt, Sam and Jess all wrote letters to the judge. That sealed the deal, and I was allowed to actually see them in person… legally.

"How are you liking group therapy?" Finke asks me.

"It blows," I hum; I might be medicated, but I still have shitty manners. I give him a shrug and even a bit of a smile when he chuckles at my reaction. It's a lot lighter between us now. "But I mean… It can be cool sometimes, I guess. Ash has been a big help. And I went with Mike to AA last week." Finke raises his eyebrows in surprise.

"Oh, you decided to do that on your own?"

"I'm keeping busy," I reply shortly. He knows why I am clamming up, so he takes his glasses off and sits forward on his desk. I know what's coming next and it makes my stomach churn - it always does. And I am still not totally decided if it is a good feeling or a bad feeling.

"Have you talked to Sam?" he asks me. I fold in my lips and nod.

It's still tough to talk about her. It's actually painful how much I miss her, sometimes. Stupid Sam, embedding herself in my life. I almost hugged a random blonde chick on the street the other day because she looked like her. The red hoodie didn't help the situation.

"Yeah. Yesterday." I talk to Sam almost every day. Sometimes she's busy, so we carry on via text (I'm allowed to have a phone again, so that's made the three and a half hour distance between us easier to bear).

Sometimes we skype. I'm still trying to get her to show me some boobies, but so far it's been a no-go. I did get a quick flash of a lacy, black bra when she was a little bit tipsy once, but that is about it.

"How's she doing? Is she enjoying school?"

"She's good. Hitting finals here soon, so she's been studying like crazy."

"When will you get to see her next?" he pushes. I am realizing pretty quickly that he ships us, and it's a little awkward talking to him about all this. It's also awkward that I know what 'ships' means, but Hannah was ever the fangirl in her day.

"She'll be home in a few days, actually." He jots something down on his notepad - I'll never get used to that aspect of therapy, being studied. It will always make me feel a little uneasy… but Finke and I have come a long way. I remember back when every answer I gave him was dripping with sarcasm or malice. Man, I sure grew up in the last few months.

"How are your plans coming along in regards to your apology to Sam?" I was hoping he'd ask.

"Pretty fuckin' fantastic if you ask me," I say, excitedly banging my fists on the arms of my chair.

Ashley was right - I'm Josh Washington.

I never do anything small - always grand and elaborate. So, for the last three months, she and Chris have been helping me with my apology to Sam. (Ya know, if I had them help me with my revenge prank in the first place, it would have taken me half the time. Who knew…)

I kid, I kid.

But really, I've been keeping Finke in the loop with everything so he can make sure I'm not… Oh, I dunno... doing anything illegal or something. It's still a gray area for me. Initially I had suggested the idea of Chris and Ashley kidnapping her so I could save her - they vehemently denied that one. In retrospect she probably wouldn't have liked that. Not after last time.

Either way, Fink has given me the green light on my master plan so far, so I'm pretty stoked that it's finally approaching.

So is the end of my time with Dr. Finke.

He checks his clock behind me, gives a little sigh before he leans back in his chair.

"Well, Joshua… I think we've really made some progress, don't you?" I feel a tight, half-smirk on my face. I've always been shit with goodbyes.

"Yeah. Only took me like… 8 months, right? I catch on real fast." He waves off my nonchalance.

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself. Some people take 8 years. You've come a long way." I nod, acknowledging the compliment, but still (and probably forever) unable to actually take it.

"I still have a ways to go…" He leans forward, his elbows on his desk and his hands clasped together as he says,

"You're going to make a fine psychologist one day."

Oh, that's right. I forgot to mention.

I start school with Sam in a month. I'm going back to school and getting back to my masters in psychology. Sure, I could just run my dad's business, and I still want to minor in film and take some fun screenwriting classes because that will always be my passion… but if I could just help kids like me one day, somehow… I don't know. I feel like it would give me a little more worth. And now that I feel like living again, I wanna do it all.

His eyes shift back to the clock once more.

"I'm proud of all you've accomplished. And just because your probation is over and you've fulfilled your required therapy hours doesn't mean I can't still be your doctor. You can come see me anytime."

Something about him telling me that lifts the weight off my shoulders and it affects me physically. I sit up a little straighter; it's a safety net. It's always there if I need it. The very notion of it offers me comfort because as excited as I am to get back out there and fill that Josh-shaped-hole in the world… I'm fuckin' terrified. But in the most wonderful way.

But no, hearing that Dr. Finke is still my mental wingman makes me feel just a little bit better. I'll let people around me know when I am slipping from now on. I realize now that I don't have to go it alone.

"Thanks Finke," I say, standing up and offering him a high-five. Not sure he was expecting it because he awkwardly tries to catch it but mostly fails and it becomes an incredibly weird handshake. We'll just pretend that didn't happen. There's honestly nothing more awkward that that.

But here we are now. I can have a phone again, my facebook is reactivated (still don't know how to use the damn thing… accidentally wrote what should have been a private message on Sam's wall… thrice.) And my probation is overrrr - I couldn't very well fuck up while I was hospitalized for those couple weeks...

I'm better now.

I know it now. I can feel it. Things are going to be different this time around.

And I haven't seen or talked to my dead sisters since the night I almost offed myself, so that's a plus.

Fink walks me to the door this time, and it's bittersweet. I know the offer stands, but I really do wonder if I'll see him again. More like… will I ever need him again?

"Really though… thank you. For everything. I owe you so-"

"Nothing. You owe me nothing," he assures me, then adds wryly, slapping me on the back, "But your insurance company owes me around $300 an hour." I chuckle despite myself.

"Good one," I patronize because, eh, it was an alright joke. Ya can't blame a guy for trying.

But now I'm deeply bothered that a man makin' that kinda money drives a 2010 Ford Focus with a minor side dent and wears the same suit every day.

Splurge a little, Finke. For goodness sakes.

I am standing the cold, wet parking lot of the local cinema, watching my breath dance clouds of white, puffy circles in the air... and yet, my palms are actually sweaty.

And as soon as I think that, Eminem lyrics fill my brain: Palms are sweaty. Knees weak. Arms are heavy. There's vomit on his sweater already. Mom's spaghetti.

This thought alone makes me realize I skipped lunch today and my stomach grumbles. But I guess the sentiment is the same, you know?

One chance… one shot.

Oh, who am I kidding? Sammy's given me like, oh idk, 146 chances already and she still agrees to meet up with me whenever she's in town.

Tonight's the night though, and I have no idea how it's gonna go over - My apology.

Sure, it's taken some time and I had to pull some strings, but I think that I might have actually pieced together an apology grand enough to make it up to Sam - although, I'm perfectly happy spending the rest of my life making it up to her… so long as she'll let me hang around her forever.

Ashley approaches me in the dark parking lot, her hands stuffed in her pockets and her nose pink from the cold. Over her scarf I can see her smirk at me, her eyes shining mischievously.

"You ready for this?" she asks, and I can only nod vacantly and hum back a quick, nervous, 'yeah.' I stare beyond her to see Chris coming up behind, slinging a backpack over his shoulder. His hand instinctively find hers, their fingers interlacing. I might have really messed them up that night, but man, I can't help but feel responsible for this current PDA.

"Is it done?" I ask him. He pushes his black-framed glasses up his nose.

"I dunno, is Tony Stark richer than Bruce Wayne?" he snorts in response, but Ashley and I just kinda stare at him because we try really hard not to encourage him when he says things that are extra geeky. He clears his throat, shifting on his feet a bit, "uh, yeah. The answer is yes," he clarifies. "I only spent the last 14 hours straight editing. No big deal…"

"Alllllrighty then! Let's get this show on the road," Ashley says waaayyy too excitedly but I appreciate the enthusiasm. I go to follow them in when they walk by me, but I can't seem to move my feet. Ashley notices and glances back at me, laughing a bit. "Oh, c'mon. It's gonna be great!" she encourages. "You worked so hard on this. She's gonna love it."

It's not that - I'm sure she will. It's just kinda crazy to me how much has happened in the last eight months and… I dunno I guess I'm feeling a little grateful for my friends, right now. It's beginning to hit me that I even still have friends. No thanks to me, I might add.

I owe so much to that girl, it's insane.

But also… it all just feels so final. Like, a huge chapter of my story is coming to an end and… then what? Chris and Ash are getting ready for the move to the east coast for Chris' scholarship. I wrapped up my last therapy session and now I have to see the admissions counselor at the college next week… everything is changing.

We go inside because we really can't waste any more time, and I don't really want Sam to see me before her surprise. Chris leads the way, asking the usher who is supposed to take our tickets if Brad is there, and he points towards an employee door.

Chris walks us over there and knocks a few times on the big, red door and a scruffy kid who isn't much older than us answers. His nametag says 'Brad,' so I assume he's our guy. Chris greets him with a 'hey man' and a high five. We do a quick introduction and the way Brad is looking around makes this feel kinda sketchy, but I suppose it's just because he's probably not supposed to be letting us do this.

"Thanks again, man," I say to him, but he just stares at me. Right. I owe him $200 bucks. I reach into my pocket and hand him the wad of green, which he briefly counts before he shoves it into his pocket as though we just did a drug deal. He turns and leads us up a set of stairs before unlocking one of the projector rooms, wordlessly letting us in.

"I'm gonna go down there and wait for Sam," Ashley tells us. She leans in and gives me a quick hug. "Good luck!" she says, leaving us alone with Brad.

"Uh, just put the movie on after you're done," he instructs us, stands there awkwardly for a moment, then walks out. I turn to Chris, my thumb jutted out where Brad had just been.

"Seriously… how do you know that guy?"

"D&D…" Chris admits, slightly embarrassed. He should be way more embarrassed, though.

Either way, that explains a lot about Brad being a weirdo. I know, I know. I'm kind of the kettle calling the pot black, but c'mon. Brad is definitely going to be on the news one day for having someone tied up in his basement. It takes a crazy to know one.

Doesn't matter, though. Brad did us a solid. We had to go to this theatre because it's the only one in town that never switched to digital projection. Although, a USB would have been much simpler than a full reel.

Chris kneels down, taking the edited reel out of his backpack and I feel my stomach swirl.

I don't really know why I am so nervous about this. Sam and I have been fine; more than fine. Like, we're 'second-base fine' at this point. I don't even think she expects an apology anymore, especially something like this.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see a text from Sam. The nervousness intensifies to an uncomfortable simmer under my cheekbones.

Sammy: I'm here [7:39 pm]

I hurry over to the small, open window in the wall and stare down into the theater. People are already sitting, and sure enough, Ashley and Sam are finding our seats. It only seems to make me that much more apprehensive, actually seeing her.

"You okay over there?" Chris asks me, fiddling with the projector. I'm glad he took it upon himself to set it up. I mean, I could have, but my hands are shaking so much it would have taken an eternity. "You're breathing really heavy. You sound like my grandpa eating spicy Indian food…"

That was a funny one - Chris' grandpa both looks and sounds like a bulldog. But still, my mind won't let me loosen up, especially when my phone buzzes again.

Sammy: typical, Washington. where r u? [7:44 pm]

Sammy: the movie is about to start and ur late! [7:45 pm]

I can see the glow of her cell phone click off as she tucks it away politely, awaiting my response. She turns to Ashley and says something, I can see her scrunch her nose and laugh at whatever it was - more than likely laughing at her own stupid joke about how I'm always late or something.

She's so damn cute I could puke.

I feel Chris slap me on the back, and when I look at him he's putting his backpack on again, having just finished loading the reel.

"Alright, man. I'm gonna head down. You sure you don't want to watch it down there with us?" he asks me, but I just shake my head. I'm too nervous/embarrassed to watch it sitting right next to her. Hell, I don't even know if I'm gonna be able to watch the whole thing from up here.

"Nah just… just send me a warning text if she hates it," I barter, and he just smirks back at me knowingly.

"You know she's gonna love it." He tells me he'll see me later and I suck in a sharp breath, glancing down at my watch.

7:50 pm.

Showtime.

I go to simply dim the theatre lights but the switch is finicky and they all just turn off at once. Smooth. I then click on the projector, the faint ticking sound filling the small, gray room.

I exhale and close my eyes at the sound of my sister's voice - Beth.

It's not a hallucination. It's a recording that fills up the giant movie screen.

"Is this thing on?" she says from behind the camera as a fuzzy Sam and Hannah come into focus. They don't even realize the camera is on them until they look over at her. Sam smiles a giant, cheesy grin while Hannah shys away. The two of them are in our old kitchen. They are decorating cupcakes, their giant mess scattered all along the counter.

"Turn it oooooofffff! I look horrible!" Hannah whines, hiding her face behind her hands and scurrying out of view, leaving poor Sam alone with her bag of frosting.

"Oh, now I have to do this all by myself? Thanks a lot," Sam quips sarcastically, shaking her head and refocusing on the rows of cupcakes.

"What's cookin' Sammy?" Beth asks her. She cocks an eyebrow deviously.

"Stupid cupcakes for your stupid brother's birthday…" she tells her.

Suddenly, there's a loud yell (me) and what sounds like a war cry (Chris) and the girls are being doused with multiple water balloons. Beth is giggling from behind the camera - she was in on it the whole time. Hannah and Sam and shouting at us angrily, and as soon as we came we run away. The camera is shaking with Beth's laughter, but zooms in on a very red faced, very wet Sam and her ruined cupcakes.

"Joshua!" she screams shrilly after us, pushing away her wet hair that has stuck itself to her face. Regardless of her frustration, she laughs, then picks up the ruined tray of cupcakes and empties them into the garbage. "Such a jerk," she hisses under her breath as they fall into the wastebin with soggy thumps.

"Still wanna marry into the family?" Beth asks her, teasingly from offscreen. Sam's cheeks redden even more so and she laughs nervously, nearing the camera.

"Turn it off," she demands, her hand up by the lens. Beth moves out of her grasp and a giggling Hannah is seen, not even half as soaked as Sam is.

"You looooooove him," she taunts.

"Shut it!" Sam snaps, and the screen goes black.

And that was just the opening of the video - some music starts.

Warmest Part of the Winter by Voxtrot.

Sam introduced that band to me, back a few months ago in her car (which I'm relieved to say is parked at her apartment 90% of the time because she doesn't really need to drive on campus. I sleep a little bit easier each night just knowing this).

I had started out just listening to it whenever I missed her because it made me feel close to her for some reason - that quickly led to me having it on a constant loop around the house.

The screen flickers with various moments of our history - me, my sisters and Sam. All the others make cameos too, but it was really just the four of us that spent so much (documented) time together. It's a montage of the numerous pranks I pulled on them, many of which involved Sam just by association. I gotta admit: it's a little painful to see my sisters, but not nearly as hard as it would have been even weeks ago. I kinda have Sam to thank for that in a lot of ways.

No, I definitely do.

What I didn't know, since I hadn't watched this yet because Chris was editing it, was that he was going to also include so many shots of me staring at Sam longingly. It feels like a fuckin' episode of The Office, watching Jim and Pam painfully flirt for four seasons and never hook up.

I can't believe how clear it is that I was crazy about that girl, even without coming out and saying it.

Remember how I said I'd probably always loved her?

Yeah.

This pretty much proves that.

Tell me you love me but don't say it with words, I wanna feel your body around me

And twenty years of push and pull have left you searchin' for a name

But maybe I have come here to die to watch the life go out of my body

Take apart the ugly days and you will never see the sun

Until this moment, I haven't had the courage to look down at Sam in the theater, but when I do I can't really make out her face. Maybe this was too much.

And I don't mean for her.

Maybe this was too much for me.

Because I'm not just apologizing tonight. I'm gonna tell her how I feel. How I've always felt. That is, if I actually get the balls to do it.

I had a name, I let it leave me

I had a plan to settle you in

I am man, I am uneasy

Come out come out and let me come in

I stare back out at the movie screen. The song is coming to an end and I realize I've missed a lot of the video. And while it was just supposed to end with some white print over a black screen saying 'Sorry Sammy,' instead Chris took the liberty of editing a bonus scene, it would appear.

The screen goes black, but you can still hear the sounds of my sisters shushing each other. Hannah flips the camera around and I feel my stomach drop a bit when I see that she is in her black top and glasses, Beth in her gray sweater and beige beanie. I recognize this instantly as the night they went missing. Believe me, I would know. I had to describe those outfits to like 30 different law officers.

"Shhh!" Hannah hisses. I can see in their eyes they're both at least a little bit tipsy, all giggly and clumsy. "Shut up, Beth! They're gonna hear us," Hannah snaps. It makes me smile; Beth was always the more serious one, so seeing Beth having a hard time keeping her composure and Hannah scolding her seems so backwards.

They turn the camera so it's front-facing and go through the back door of the lodge, quietly, where Sam and I come into view on the back patio in the snow. The camera is shaky and I can hear the girls shush each other so they can try to make out what Sam and I are saying. Usually I'd be embarrassed about this breach of privacy, but I find myself leaning forward to try to hear as well. I don't really even remember this part of the night.

Sam and I are chatting on the patio, our backs to the camera. We don't even notice that we have an audience. She turns to me and says something, laughs, puts her hand on my arm. Josh in the video doesn't even seem to notice her obvious interest, but Hannah zooms in on the gesture. I hear Beth snort out a laugh that Hannah shushes once more.

The video rolls, mostly just Sam and I appearing to flirt a bit, our touches lingering a little too long. The girls get super quiet as I reach over and get an eyelash off Sam's cheek. I brush it away and she complains that it was supposed to be a wish, that I ruined it.

"Twenty bucks says they finally admit they're in love with each other tonight…" Hannah whispers off camera.

"Pfft. Fat chance," Beth retorts, dryly. "They won't even admit it to themselves, how can you think they're gonna admit it to each other?"

Their commentary is actually pretty fuckin' amazing, actually. God, they are so, so missed.

As I watch the scene unfold, I kinda remember what Sam and I were talking about on the porch. Granted, it's a little fuzzy since I was already drunk at this point in the evening, and then after I proceeded to go inside and get completely wasted.

Sam and I had broken away from the group because she was a little down. Her loser boyfriend dumped her right before the trip. I remember he was actually supposed to come up with her and I, for one, was incredibly, selfishly relieved when he didn't. I never liked the guy. And that's not just because I was in love with her.

I didn't like him because Sam stopped coming around when she started dating him. And he didn't see the special things in her that the rest of us saw. And he was a douche.

Okay, I realize I haven't really listed one good reason but the guy was a tool and I was so glad he dumped her before she wasted any more time on him.

"What is wrong with them?" Beth grunts impatiently, and Sam and I glance in their general direction.

"Did you hear that?" Sam asks me, but I just shrug and get back to telling her that she deserved better than that guy, anyway.

"Sam, he wasn't right for you," I tell her. And she sighs and nods because she already knew that, too. Her face shifts into a coy smile as she asks me,

"Oh yeah? And who might be right for me, Josh?"

Fuck, it was so obvious. And I watch dumb Josh just let the question fly over his head.

"I dunno. Someone... else," was my super dumb response.

"This is painful," Hannah groans behind the camera, outlining my current thoughts exactly. So much wasted time. And then another year and 8 months afterwards. We just never seemed to get the right timing, you know?

I watch as I pull Sam in close for a hug, kissing the top of her head. She hugs me back and we let it linger wayyy too long to just be friends. I remember that moment pretty clearly. I didn't wanna let go. We pull apart and it almost looks like we might kiss or something, but instead we hear Mike yelling out for me to come take a shot, ruining the moment entirely.

Sam quietly tells me we should get inside, so Hannah and Beth scurry off quickly to not be seen, still giggling. Hannah turns the camera on their joyous faces one more time. So vibrant. So excited.

So alive.

"Maybe one day you two will finally figure it out," Beth teases into the lens. Hannah blows a kiss.

"Welcome to the family, Sam. Can't wait to have you as my sister."

The screen fades to black.

I'm not sure if I wanna laugh or cry when the video ends. Probably both. The audience is confused, quietly murmuring. I click off the projector and load the movie everyone came to see. I look down, and my breath hitches when I see Sam staring up at me through the projector window. I smile, giving her a lazy wave. I see her features flicker in the dim movie light. She smiles weakly and waves back.

I should go to her.

But I need a minute to get my head on straight.

So instead of going down into the theater and slipping into the seat beside her, I slip out the back exit instead and into the alleyway for some fresh air. I might be on the right meds, but I don't think I'll ever get a handle on my anxiety 100%.

And that's okay.

That's part of the healing: accepting that you will never have control completely. I'm just glad that the anxiety I'm currently experiencing is more like riding a roller coaster than free-falling without a parachute, like it used to feel. The cool air is helping, though, and soon I might even be able to go back into that movie theater if I give it a few more moments.

I don't know yet, though. Maybe I didn't think this all the way through. I begin to practice square breathing.

In 1, 2, 3, 4, out 1, 2, 3, 4, in 1, 2, 3, 4, out 1, 2-

"Josh?" I hear the unmistakable sound of Sam's voice call my name.

Nevermind going in there and sitting with her, apparently she came out to find me. I turn, and there she is in all of her Sam-ly glory. I feel the corners of my mouth tug and my throat feels dry, mostly because the video was just part of the apology - one of the MOST important part of an apology is actually saying the words 'I'm sorry.'

She smiles sweetly without teeth, pulling her red Pea Coat tightly across her chest and adjusting her beige scarf. Red has always been her color.

I give her a wave, my words getting choked up in my throat. She steps towards me slowly. The sound of her boots hitting the pavement seem to echo around us in the little alleyway but she stops short of me.

Great, it's awkward, now. I made this awkward.

"Whaaat was that?" she asks, lowly, raising her eyebrows. "Was that for me?" She points to herself, as though I wouldn't know which 'me' she was referring to. I nod. At some point, I'm gonna have to say something. "Josh? You okay?" I nod again, and she's starting to look worried, which is literally the last thing I want, so I finally blurt out,

"I'm really sorry, okay?"

Wonderful.

It sounds mean and defensive, because I've never been good at this and I have so much to apologize for. I ran a bothered hand over my beanie, stripping it off my head because now I feel too hot. She's not looking worried, anymore. Now she just looks confused.

"Sorry for what?"

I sigh, my shoulders drooping so low they feel as though they might unhinge. I look at the lights from the parking lot reflecting on the wet asphalt - it's easier than looking into her eyes. I spent forever on that video… I didn't even think about the actual apology. I figured I'd just wing it and it would come to me. I should have known better.

Typical Josh. (Hey, I'm not crazy anymore, but I didn't say my self-esteem was completely intact, either.)

"Hey." She takes another step towards me, smiling again, but her eyebrows slope sympathetically. She taps her shoe against mine, trying to get me to look at her instead of the ground. It works; my eyes flicker to hers. "Since when are you shy?" she teases, chuckling lightly. She's got me there.

"Sam-" I begin, but she's cutting me off.

"Josh, you really don't have to apologize for anything-"

"Uh, yeah I do!" I practically shout, but I compose myself and lower my voice. I take Sam by the shoulders and resist the urge to shake her lightly. She tilts her head to the side, narrowing her eyes at me while she tries to figure out just what my damage is.

"Okay…" she hums, awaiting. I suck in a sharp breath, and I feel like the words just come vomiting out of me.

"I am so sorry, Sam. For so much, I-I can't even begin to tally up all the ways I've fucked up with you-"

"Josh," she tries to interrupt, but I'm not going to let her talk me out of an apology. I've spent way too long thinking I had nothing to apologize to her for, only to realize that she deserved the biggest one of all.

"-I'm sorry for every stupid prank. I'm sorry for treating you like you meant nothing to me when you have meant everything to me since I was 13 years old. I'm sorry for taking so long to realize that and for dragging you through so much shit. I'm sorry for this last few months and for never thanking you for giving my life back-"

"Josh-"

"A-and you didn't deserve any of it, Sam. I mean that. I don't, and never have, deserved you. Not once. Not before, and not even now. You never should have talked to me again after what I did to you that night-"

"Why did you do that?" she asks suddenly, and I notice her eyes glistening with emotion. I know it is hard for her to ask by the way she swallows down the lump in her throat and gives a tiny shrug. "I mean, I always wondered but I never asked. Why did you single me out that night?"

I exhale. Reflect.

"I um… I wasn't really in my head, you know? But there were two reasons, I guess. Neither of them good enough." She waits, apprehension on her face that makes me feel like she isn't totally sure she wants the answer. "I knew you'd be the right one for the role, you know? It was all kind of like a movie and I wanted you to be the star. I know it sounds crazy, but I figured if anyone would be able to defeat me… it was you. And you did. You found all the clues, you knew it was me before anyone else did. But-" My words trail because this part is hardest to admit and I'm not entirely confident she needs to know this part.

"But?" she coaxes. No use in hiding the truth now, I suppose.

"But I almost scrapped the whole idea when I saw you."

"You did?" I let go of her, somberly nodding as I take a step back. Now my own eyes feel like they're glistening and normally I would be embarrassed. But I'm not. Because it's okay to be vulnerable with the person you love.

"Yeah I… I had that whole thing planned for months. But when you actually came I had this moment of clarity. I almost stopped myself. It was crazy, the good part of me trying to outweigh the bad. I just wanted to get some time alone with you and tell you how much I missed you and how much you meant to me. I started to, actually…"

"Then what happened?" she croaks. She already knows what I am going to say. I huff out a brief, humorless laugh.

"You said, 'we'." She freezes and my voice is shaky as I tell her, "I told you on our way to the boiler that, you know, I was happy you came. Specifically you. And when you said 'we're all here for you,' I guess it made me realize that you didn't see me that way. Or, you didn't see me the way I saw you."

"Oh," she breathes.

"And I fucked up so bad that night, I don't know what I was thinking. Because, truth is…" I take in a deep breath and just spit it out. "Truth is I'm in love with you Sam. I think I always have been. And I am pretty sure I always will."

Silence.

She just stands there, looking teary and overwhelmed, and I almost regret telling her at all. Which is silly, since she has proved over and over again what I mean to her.

Suddenly, before I get a chance to ruin the moment or backtrack, she takes me by the jacket collar and forcibly kisses me. I'm shellshocked at first, but I kiss her back regardless because, well, duh. I love her. She's a strong little thing and she pushes me up to the brick wall of the movie theater, kissing me as though she's trying to undo any pain I've ever felt, or purge herself of her own.

Easy there, Sammy. I bruise easily.

She rips away from me abruptly, her hands pressing hard against my cheeks as she seems to take in every line and feature of my face. Her lips are chapped and raw from the violent kissing (there's a combo of words I never thought I'd use). She's breathing heavily.

"Josh, I am so sorry. I-I didn't know-" she tries to apologize, but I silence her ridiculous words with another kiss because she has nothing, NOTHING to apologize for.

Not now, not ever.

We break the kiss again because it needs to end at some point (and to be honest, I'm gettin' a little worked up).

And now she's laughing. Not just a little bit. Like, a lot.

"What is so funny?" I snap, which only seems to make her laugh harder. What a little psycho. I feel myself growing indignant. "Okay, ya know what? Just forget the apology, little missy-" Her mouth drops open, her arms folding over her chest. There's the sassy Sam I know and love.

"Are you actually retracting your apology?" she chuckles, shaking her head. "You can't do that."

"Well, tell me why you're laughing then."

"Oh, it's nothing it's just… I thought you said apologies are overrated?"

I smirk.

It's true. I did say that.

"Well… how am I supposed to ask you to be my girlfriend if I haven't apologized for going a little nuts and chasing you around a basement while you feared for your li-" Sam clasps her hand over my mouth, her eyes narrowed into slits and her smile tight.

"Maybe let's not keep reminding me of that night, 'kay?" I nod beneath her warm hands and she releases me. "So… girlfriend, huh? I dunno-" she begins to tease me. Yeah, I can get used to this.

"Oh, quit it. You know you love me."

Sam's face softens and her smile gets just a little bit brighter.

"I really do," she tells me quietly.

"I knew it…" I whisper. Another kiss. We're so cute it's disgusting. She pokes me in the chest.

"But, you probably already knew that, huh?" She asks and I shrug.

"Well, I do now."

Now, this is the part where we kiss one more time all romantically on the shimmering asphalt under the twinkling streetlights. Then the credits roll and you can assume we went off to live happily ever after and all that junk. I am a director's son, remember? Plus, I've seen my fair share of romantic comedies thanks to Hannah (Beth could hardly stomach them).

But instead, and much more fitting to our romantic comedy, she reaches down and takes my hand, leading us out of the alleyway and towards the parking lot.

"Wanna skip the movie and get some food?" she suggests. For a moment I feel guilty about bailing on Chris and Ash but… how can I just say no to food? This girl knows me.

"Have you ever heard of this place called Vedge?" I suggest facetiously. Sam's head falls back in laughter.

"Pretty sure we're never gonna be welcome there again." This is true. Not after the dine and dash fiasco.

"Too bad. I was really craving beet pesto pizza."

"Oh shush, you were not."

So I'm gonna suggest the only other thing that comes to mind.

"...burritos?"

And guess what?

She said yes.

February, 2017 - Four Months Later

"Monster In Me: A Cautionary Tale of Misdiagnosed Schizophrenia"

Professor Jameson plops the paper down on my desk on his way by.

With a big, fat, 'SEE ME' etched across the top.

In red marker. (That's never good.)

I swallow hard and slink in my chair, hiding under the hood of my sweater - there's nothing more ominous than those two words. Everyone's packing up, leaving for a long weekend (for most of us this was our final midterm. Monday is an inservice day), but I sit paralyzed in seat.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

So many reasons for this note run through my head: I shared too much. I didn't cite my sources. I just imagined writing the paper and instead turned in 'all work and no play makes Josh a dull boy' written over and over again for over twelve pages…

But no.

That's my paper, right in front of me, starting with a very promising (and Sam-edited) first paragraph.

Fuuuuck. I don't know what I did wrong, but I needed to pass this class to move onto my anticipated schedule next term and-

"Mr. Jameson?" I call out, standing slowly when the last student finally exits the room. He glances up at me from his desk over his wire-framed glasses. I hold the paper in my shaking hand. "You wanted to see me?" He nods, his eyebrows raising in acknowledgement as he rounds his desk, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the front of it.

"Ah, yes. Please," he says, gesturing towards the empty student desk in front of him for me to sit, but I would rather stand.

"What's up?" I roll my shoulder, trying not to let my nerves give me away, but I'm sure my eyes are bugging out and I look deathly pale, like I usually do when I'm nervous.

"You said in your paper that these were real life occurrences. Is that true?" he asks me. I nod, my eyes falling from his. He's staring at my face so intensely it's like he's trying to see through me. It makes me uncomfortable. I might be all better now, in most ways, but I will always be socially awkward when I can get away with it - and even sometimes when I can't.

"Uh… yeah. A lot of it was from growing up, but it wasn't 'til this last year that things got out of control-" I stop myself. I'm not sure what he's getting at, so I sidestep, "is there a problem with the paper?"

"Oh, no. On the contrary, actually. I think it might be one of the most intriguing, well-written paper's I've come across in a long time," he compliments, and I feel my chest loosen and my breathing come back to normal. He couldn't have just written that across the top? He had to damn-near give me a heart attack?

He gives a shrug, "although, I think maybe you could have refrained from using the word 'fuck' so frequently…" he adds, and I find myself laughing awkwardly at the weirdness of a professor saying the word 'fuck' to me. He's a pretty cool dude.

"So, the paper's fine then?"

"You got an A on the assignment, if that's what you're asking. But I wanted to ask you if I could use this paper for future classes. I'd say schizophrenia is one of the most misdiagnosed, mishandled mental illnesses out there. I want to be able to teach from what you've endured." My mouth hangs open as I ponder that for a moment, because I'm not so sure how much I want my story just out there, and then I realize, it's not just my story.

It belongs to my sisters, my friends, my parents. My goal in this life after treatment was to be able to help others and if people can learn from what happened to me, then, isn't that all I can ask for.

"Sure," I finally say after a moment. "Can you take my name off, though? I'd rather campus not know I'm fresh from the Looney Bin..."

"Of course," he chuckles a bit, slapping me on the back. "I have a feeling you're going to do great things, Mr. Washington."

That feels good. It's crazy to think just how much has changed in the last year.

Once I'm free to go, I put on my beanie and bundle up in my jacket to brave the cold weather outside. Campus is gray and the trees are all bare and dead. They sky is overcast and it's pretty gloomy out… and yet, I can't wipe the stupid grin off my face.

This world is beautiful.

Life is beautiful.

And I'm gonna do great things. Teacher said.

I round the corner by the library and there she is at our usual meeting spot. Her nose and cheeks are pink from the cold, even though she's wearing about twenty layers of clothing. She's sitting on the bench waiting for me, fidgeting with her cell phone.

I walk right up and kiss her, catching her off guard, but once she realizes it's me and not some rando-creep she relaxes into my lips, pressing her cold palm against my cheek. I feel her smile against me. It's everything I've ever wanted and never deserved.

"Heyyy. What took you so long?" She stands up, wrapping her arms around me tightly. I think it's just a ploy to get warmer, actually. Her teeth are chattering. I push her beanie up so I can get a better look at her green eyes - deep pools of Atlantic. Even more so in contrast with the gray world around us.

"I had to talk to my professor. Got an A on the paper." She rewards me with another kiss and I half expect our lips to get stuck together, ya know, like A Christmas Story.

"Thanks to my amazing editing, I'm sure," Sam says oh-so-humbly.

"Yeah, yeah…"

Sam pulls from me, taking my hand instead and we begin to walk back towards our apartment.

Yes, our apartment.

That happened pretty much right after I moved out here. We were pretty good at justifying it with the fact that it was cheaper and we already spent most of our time together anyway… really, I think we both had wanted it for a long time.

I love the home we've created together, the first step in a series of exciting, terrifying steps we'll take together. I've left the decorating mostly up to Sam. There's a lot of plants. We got a cat that we so lovingly named, 'Dopey'.

The place is cozy. It's surprisingly modest, considering the fact that I offered to get us a nicer place uptown. But Sam insists on doing things fairly, and that means splitting it all in half. She's still the same, feisty, independent girl that both drives me crazy and makes me fall even more in love every time I look at her.

"So, what's it gonna be tonight?" she asks me, but continues before I can answer. "Because earlier I really wanted Pad Thai but now that I'm freezing I feel like it's a night for Pho-"

I tell her she can decide, and she begins to verbally weigh out each option. I don't care, I could just listen to her talk forever. I want to.

The ring box I'm currently clasping in my pocket just proves that.

Probably a little soon for a proposal, sure. And I'm not saying I'm gonna do it right now. Just waiting for the right moment. I've had a few grand ideas I've been playing around with. Remember, I'm Josh Washington. I don't ever do anything small.

Or sane.

Truth be told, I bought that stupid ring about a week after she and I made things official. There's never been a doubt in my mind that she's the one I was meant to bicker with til we die.

I mean… look at me?

Who else would put up with a crazy guy like me?

I swear… I'm going to marry this girl.

This stupid,

brilliant,

pushy,

caring,

violent,

amazing girl who saved my life. More than once.

Now I'll spend the rest of it returning the favor.

Fin.