*TIC-TOC* *TIC-TOC* It's dead silent in the office and it feels like we've been here for hours discussing the terms of the divorce. I look over to him, his eyes laser focused on signing the papers in front of him. I look back to the compy behind the desk that seems like it was made for someone far above his stature. He notices me looking his way and speaks "We're almost finshed Mrs. Aaron, just need you to sign those papers after Mr. Aaron is done" I simply nod in reply, returning my gaze to the man I can no longer call my husband after this. I'll admit, despite wanting this, I'm scared. Scared of what it'll be like after he's gone...especially since I've already lost so much... *TIC-TOC* *TIC-TOC* ...No. It's too late to feel regretful, what's done is done, whether either of us like it or not. At least I keep telling myself that like it will make me just forget everything that led up to this moment. Like it will make me forget the pain he's caused me and the pain I've caused him, when we were supposed to support each other. Like things will just go back to normal after I go to sleep after this and when I wake up, I'll be by his side and I'll make breakfast for me, him and both of our chi- "Here." My thoughts are cut off by that ever familiar gruff voice to my left, sliding those dreaded papers my direction, while glaring daggers into my soul. *TIC-TOC* *TIC-TOC* I take the papers, returning his death stare ten fold while he turns away looking at nothing in particular. Before I can start signing, the compy says something "Mrs. Aaron, are you alright? Do you need some tissues?" Tissues? What is he going on abo- I feel something running down my cheek, I bring my hand up to my face to find I've started crying. Huh. And here I thought I cried away all my tears on that day a year ago... "...No thank you, I'm fine." *BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP* Wait, what? Beeping? Why am I hearing beeping? Do clocks do that now? That man next to me chuckles, "You still don't get it do you?" he turns my direction an- "Naser?" My eyes widen in shock as in an instant that man is replaced with my beautiful sweet baby boy and I find myself no longer in that dull, lifeless, office and instead find myself in the living room of my...our old home. I'm sitting on the couch in the living room, with my little Naser to my left, sitting next to me giving me the warmest smile I've ever seen him give me. I practically lunge at him, tears running down my face, holding him tight and sobbing harder than I ever have before, "Naser! Oh God *hic* Naser, please don't *hic* tell me tha-" I can't finish the sentence. I know the moment I say what this is, he'll be gone again and more than anything, I do not want that, I do not want to lose my son again. *BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP* That fucking beeping, I'm trying to have a moment with my son Goddammit! "Mom, you have to wa-" I interrupt him immediately, "NO! PLEASE NO DON'T! I DON'T WANT TO LOSE YOU AGAIN!!!" I bury my face in his chest, sobbing to point of nearly choking on my own breaths. And then I feel a hand brushing my hair gently, I look up and see my Naser still smiling at me as he starts talking again "Mom, I know how you feel and I miss you too, but" there's a slight pause as he forms his next words, "you have to move on." *BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP* My heart sinks into my stomach at those words. How could I move on? Why would I? He's my son, my baby boy, ripped away from me too soon. I can't move on, I just can't, especially not now. Not after all I've been through right now. *BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP* "Well, I guess it's time." Naser says looking at the clock in the dining room. "What? Wait...no. NononONONO-" *BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP* "Mom, it's time, you know it is." "NO NO NO! I STILL HAVE SO MUCH I WANT T-" *BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP* "Bye Mom and have a good morning!" "NASEEER!!! NOOOOO-" And just like that, it all fades to black, like it always does... --- ...201M2025, Present Day *BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP* "...Uuuurggh, Goddammit, I'm up you asshole" I say as I halfheartedly flail my arm around for the alarm clock. I do that for about a few seconds before finally hitting my goal: the wonderfully titled snooze button, but I know I should check the time regardless. I push myself up from my stomach and open my eyes to look for my phone and find it right where I leave it all the time on the night stand next to the infernal waking machine. I pull my phone off my charger and press the button on the side lighting up the screen, making me feel like a deer staring down headlights on the highway for a breif moment before I check the time. The clock in the middle of the lock screen reads 5:45. Huh, what do you know, I'm actually up early for the first time in a long while, I wonder if the dream I ha- ...My dream. As soon as I remember that I instantly fall back into my pillow, all of the tiny amounts of pride slowly building up inside me for being up early for once, gone in a flash. It was so real, I really thought that...no, I can't lose myself in those thoughts, not again. I have to get up and go through my daily grind, it won't do me any good to fall back into depression, not after so long and how hard I've worked to get here. Even if 'here' isn't exactly ideal living for someone my age, it's still better than being out on the street. After a moment of silence I push myself out of bed and throw off the covers so I ca- wait who the fuck is this asshole next to me? And why are we both naked... Oh right, he's the guy I found on Cinder. A deep royal purple raptor, said he was looking for some 'older women' to fill the void in his heart or some crap, though I knew what he really wanted and besides, it's been a while since I've had a good time like that...at least I think we both had a good time last night. Last night is a blur to me. Ah, fuck were we drunk? And here I thought I was getting better at holding down the stuff I drink. Though, if we were drunk last night, then where's the hang- "Ah, fuck..." as soon as I open that train of thought, it crash against the walls of my skull, bringing with it a splitting headache. I get up and head towards the bathroom to get some ibuprofen for this damn headache. As I make my way into my apartment's surprisingly sizable bathroom, with enough space between shower, toilet and sink. And right above the sink a cabinet with a door that's also the mirror, before I open the gateway to my relief from the terrible pain of a hangover, I look at myself in the mirror. It's me alright, my light teal scales contrasted by my blonde hair, looking pretty good considering what me and lover boy back there got up to last night. And then my eyes meet themselves in the mirror, reminding me of how much I've changed in these past five years. They're still a bright brilliant amber, but it's how I look at myself that gives it away. I was once the dainty little housewife, doing housework while waiting for her husband and children to come home, so I could make them dinner and smile and chat with them while we all ate what I'd prepared smiling through it all, each and every day, no matter how bad things seemed. Pretty naive way to look at life now that I think about, now I'm not that housewife anymore. I'm a bitter and broken woman, working a minimum wage job to just barely make each months rent in an apartment, that while having plenty of space, Thank God for Moe, isn't really the best place to be nor is it in someplace awful like Skin Row. Though, it's in Little Troodon, which means I have to make a long commute to my job, the one I have to work every day, unless I really want to get kicked to the curb. I also very apparently have sexual frustrations every now and again, I mean, someone whose sexually satisfied with themselves doesn't go fucking just whoever on whatever dating app she feels like, right? Especially someone my age, good God, this is not normal for someone my age I really should've listened to what Moe said about these fucking apps. ...I better get that ibuprofen. As I open the cabinet door I hear rustling in the bedroom. I turn my head to see the purple prince just now waking up, probably wondering where the hell he is and hoping he didn't make huge mistake. I shake it off an return my attention to the now open cabinet, looking through bottles and boxes alike of all sorts of over the counter medicine until my eyes find the treasure I'd been looking for. I take the bottle and open it up to find...five pills left. That doesn't make any sense at all, I know I have quite a few hangovers and I mean quite a few, but I should still have plenty of... "Oh fuck." I quickly close the cabinet and head towards the bedroom in a power walk and find...nobody there, not even his clothes. I throw on last night's underwear not caring if it's sticky or not and quickly make my to the living room. There's the couch, right in front of the TV with a small bookshelf to the right of the couch and a whole wall with shelves of it's own above it, with the few framed photos I saved before I sold the house, among other things. Dammit Sam, now is not the time to reminisce, you've got to find that royal asshole! I walk further into the living room before a voice from the kitchen stops me dead in my tracks. "Oh, hey Sam, you sleep well?" It's that giant dildo of raptor, just casually leaning against the table as he takes a sip from a mug full of what I assume is coffee. I snap my head his direction, my face curling up with rage, he seems to notice this as his eyes widen in response to that, like I just caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. "Uh, is s-something wrong, w-was I that bad last night?" I hold up the bottle with five whole ibuprofen pills in it and point a finger at it while shaking it up and down. He looks at me confused for a moment before a light bulb seems to go off in his dense head. "Oh. OH! Oh shit, sorry I just needed little knockout after I got up at, like, one in the A.M. I think." He says looking at floor like some kid who just got sent to principals office. My jaw practically hits the floor, "A little knockout? In case you haven't noticed from my shaking" I shake the pill bottle again to drive the point home " there's five fucking pills of ibuprofen in here! And before there was at least..." I think for a moment, not really knowing how much was left before his unintentional suicide attempt "...well, my point is, I use this to get rid of headaches, not for some fucking sleep or whatever else you swallow damn near the entire bottle for!" I start making my way towards him, gritting my teeth and he responds quickly sitting the mug on the table and backing away past the table and towards the wall. "Wait! Sam, I swear I didn't know that, I'll get you a new bottle, I promise!" "I don't need a hand out from a fucking druggie, what I want is you get your shit and get the fuck out of my apartment!" "Okay! Okay! Just don't tell my girlfriend I was here and that I'm on the stuff again please!" Wait, girlfriend? "...You son of a bitch, you said you said you just got out of a nasty relationship!" He slides down to the floor, back against the wall, now sitting with his face in his hands "I did, honest! I met Frankie in rehab and we both went out to an arcade for our first date and-and-" My face unfurls as he rambles on about his first date with this girl. He's actually distraught over this and here I am blowing up at him for what seemed like a huge mistake to to him, like he's finally realizing how much he messed up just now. I let out a heavy sigh after about minute or so through his rambling "...Just get your clothes and get out." He looks up from hands, his face now stained with tears, matching the look of guilt and regret now painted on his face. I motion my head to the bedroom silently telling him 'Go before I change my mind' and he silently nods back and goes to get his clothes and grab his things. God, I could use smoke right now, but ibuprofen first, nicotine later. I grab the mug on the table...that has no coffee in it, Raptor Jesus, is he addicted to caffeine or pain killers? Whatever, I grab the pot from the coffee maker and pour myself some coffee and then open the bottle of ibuprofen again and pour out three tablets of the five. I pop the pills in my beak, following it up with quick sip of coffee. God it burns, but power through it to get the tablets holding my relief hostage down my gullet. "Ah fuck, hot hot!" I say as swallow the the pills and coffee waiting for the moment that pain of the headache subsides... ... Any second now... ... ...Fast acting my ass. About 20 minutes pass before the ibuprofen actually kicks in and Prince Charming himself walks out of the bathroom fully clothed, having evidently deciding to use my shower on top of my medicine. Great, just peachy. "I uh, didn't use up all of body wash if that's what you're wondering" he says in a meek tone. "Well, at least you didn't scarf it down like you did these" I say shaking the ibuprofen bottle at him. He looks away, the guilt coming over his face again. I sigh "It's fine, just leave." He silently makes his way through the kitchen towards the entry way, before stopping in the small arch between the living room and the kitchen and looking up at me sitting at the table. It's awkwardly silent for a moment as our eyes meet, he opens his mouth to say something but immediately traps it shut, like he thought of something and then forgot what he was going to say. He then shakes his head and heads to the entry way "Forget it". "Say what's on your mind" this takes him by surprise as he's halfway through the entry way and snaps his head back at me with a look of bewilderment on his face. I can already tell what he's gonna say, some version of 'You're not as bad as you think you are' or some sappy shit like tha- "You must've been a wonderful mother" ...What the fuck? The fuck did he just say? As I'm pondering this he's turn around and is already heading for the door, "Hey! Wait minute!" I get up from my seat and make my towards the fucker as he turns back around with a...what's that look on his face? Content? "I saw the photos, in the living room. I assumed they're your kids, right?" I take that statement in and thought about what to say next, "Yeah, and?" nice, real smooth Samantha. "The 'and' part is that I figured they were yours because of how you handled me having downed those pain killers, only a mother whose incredibly understanding would've handled it like you did" I'm speechless. This is not at all what I thought he was going to say, let alone in such calm way. Does he really think I was that good of a mother? If only he knew the half of it. I take in a deep breath, before I be blunt with him "...My children are dead" it's deathly silent after I said that, his eyes widened in response to the bomb I just dropped on him. He quickly darts his to the ground awkwardly and I follow suit before I continue "They were the world to me, they still are in a way, even though they're gone" my breath hitches as a knot balls up in my throat "so, please understand what I mean when I say this" I step closer to him now angry and staring up into his eyes, now filled with a tinge of fear, realizing the mine he just stepped on "Don't. You. DARE TALK TO ME ABOUT THEM." I step back, just barely holding back the tears in my eyes as I keep my scowl focused on him. It's silent for a moment before he speaks again. "...I'm sorry." After he says that, he turns around, unlocks the door and leaves, closing the door behind him. As soon as I'm sure he's gone, I fall to my knees, tears rolling down my face. I put my face in hands and start sobbing uncontrollably. I do this for about a minute before I pull myself off the floor and head to the bedroom, still sobbing. I grab my phone and look at the time. 6:23...shit, still early, but not that early anymore after what happened. I quickly go and lock the front door and then hop in the shower to get the smell of sex and booze off of me, can't show up to work smelling like that, I've seen other workers get fired over just having bad gas, can't imagine how livid Jerry would be if I went in smelling like I do now. After the shower do my hair in my usual 'motherly' look and then head to the bedroom to get my work clothes. A white polo shirt with red covering the shoulders and an orange line following from there to the chest. The left part of the shirt says the department store's name 'Junes' on it. I thought it was like the month June and was pronounced 'Jooons', but no, it's pronounced 'Joo-ness'. I asked why it's like that and apparently this is some department store chain over in Japan, I think? At least I'm sure that's what Tera, God bless her soul, said when I asked about it years ago. I put on the matching dark crimson slacks and pull the polo over my head and carfully put my wings through the holes on the back and tuck it into the slacks before buckling up the belt. I check the time on my phone again, 6:37. Okay, I'm actually going to be fine, I have enough time to make myself some quick breakfast and then head out to the train station to make my commute. I quickly put on my old Air Force jacket, still surprised I fit in it, pocket my phone and wallet in the inner pockets of my jacket and make my way to the kitchen. Though, stop midway through my short trek in the living room and look towards the photos on the wall shelf. I look at one in particular, that I am so, so happy I didn't get rid of. It's the picture of my little pirate princess, Lucy, playing in her little adventure world as a captain of a wayward band of pirates searching for treasure on dangerous waters. I can't help but smile looking at the picture every time I see it. I don't care about what she did to everyone at Volcano High that day, even...even Naser, she was-no is, still my baby, just like Naser and nothing will change that, ever. I snap out of my thoughts when I sniffle and then put my hand to my cheek to see that tears have started rolling down my face. Oh, great, got emotional moments before I have to head out. No, I still have some time, I can make breakfast and clean my face real quick so I won't be late. Keep it together Samantha, you got this, it's a normal day like any other all you have to do is get through it like you always have and it'll be fine. That's right it's going to be just fine...just fine. [NOTES] Hi, this is the first fanfic for, well, anything I've ever written, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of...how ever many I eventually decide to do. I wanted to write post E1 fic from the point of view of one of Fang's parents and I thought Samantha would be an interesting pick for this. The title of this fic is also a reference to the inspiration for what I wanted to do, the song Broken Heart of Gold by ONE OK ROCK on their Luxury Disease album. I listened to the lyrics while having other Snootfics in my head like Bad Apple by Umbruuh (which is really good by the way, go read it if you haven't yet) and then thought about Samantha and that her feelings after losing both of her children and coming to terms with it were probably similar to what lyrics where in the song. Give it a listen after reading and you'll see what I mean :) Yes, I did reference Persona 4 with the name of the place Samantha is working at in this fic, I just thought it'd be a funny easter egg amidst all the pain and suffering going on in this first chapter That purple raptor guy seemed alright despite his 'situation' wonder if he'll show up again :) You may have also noticed the other characters in the tags, well I got plans for them and you'll just have to wait and see what they are. Thanks so much again for reading the first of how ever many chapters of this new adventure for me and I hope you enjoyed it.