Phase 43

Chapter 9 - Finn

We learned later that almost every airport in the United States had either been bombed, shot out, or destroyed. We were stuck. My parents tried to pay for a private jet to get us there - anything to get us out of the country, but a few days after the bombing at the LA airport, Europe had announced that it had officially been overrun. They were in the same boat as us. And we had no clothes either, except for the ones one on backs and in our carry ons.

"Finn?" We had been staying in a hotel near Burbank when my little brother Charlie came into my room. I had been looking at old social media when he came, laying on my stomach across my bed.

"Yeah?" I looked up, seeing Charlie standing in front of me in his red flannel. His floppy brown hair was messy, as if he just woke up from a nap. I sat up so he could sit next to me.

"Is this the end of the world?" he asked out of the blue. I stared at him for a moment before I remembered how philosophical my little brother was. He was by far the quietest out of all of us combined, and he was ten times smarter than I had been when I was his age. He was a thinker, a reader, the quiet nerdy kid. I used to tease Elliot that Charlie was his brother instead of mine, considering their similar looks and personalities. Charlie had the tan skin and big brown eyes of the Bridgemans whereas Elliot had the blue eyes and pale skin of his mother, but their hair, their lanky figures, and their eye for the quieter things in life were identical.

It took a moment for me to find a response, but I decided that if I was going to voice my real opinions to anyone, it would be Charles.

"I don't know big guy," I breathed, wrapping my arm around his thin shoulders. His eyes stared at the mint green wall in front of us.

"I think it is," Charlie said quietly. I blinked back a few tears after hearing the melancholy in his voice. I pressed a small kiss to his forehead.

"Whatever it is, we can get through it," I said quietly. Charlie glanced up at me for a moment, but then averted those big chocolate eyes.

"I don't think I'll ever see Spencer again." Charlie wrung his hands together. I remembered Charlie's best friend besides Lucas - a bright little boy with a passion for video games and big ash blue eyes that burned with mischief.

"You don't know that sweetie," I attempted to assure him. Charlie let out a small chuckle. I had to remind myself that he was only 10, and not the 15 year old he acted like he was.

"Finn, I know that we have to be strong for Lucas, but I know that this isn't good. This isn't just something we read in the paper, or watch on the news," Charlie replied. I tucked him into my shoulder, shushing him. I guess I didn't want to admit that this was real. Oh god, my little brother (by six years, mind you) was stronger than I was.

"Charles? You in here?" Sam walked into the room, his dark brown hair in a similar state to Charles. Has everyone taken a nap except me? It's like 8:30...?

"Yeah, I'm here," Charlie called, sitting up out of my embrace. I gave him a smile. Sam's shamrock eyes were bright.

"Mom wants to talk with you and Sir. Lucas, big man," Sam chuckled, ruffling Charlie's hair as Charlie left my room. I watched him go, feeling that immense sadness wrap around my heart again.

Sam turned to me, his eyes brushing over the thick brace on my knee. It had healed much quicker than before, but I still had to wear the bloody brace. It was a huge pain the ass.

"How's it doin'?" Sam asked, sitting down next to me. I shrugged, loosening one of the supports.

"Better. Just wish I didn't have to wear this bloody thing," I grumbled. Sam gave me a lopsided smile for a moment, but then it disappeared.