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Sam is already on his way home by the time he finishes the first voicemail.
"Hey, Sam. I know you're busy right now, so you won't see this until later.”
Sam had declined the first few calls from Sebastian, messaging a "just text me" and a quick "is it an emergency?" for good measure. He knows Sebastian gets overwhelmed easily with the large crowds that the Fair attracts, and probably just left for a smoke. Sebastian doesn’t respond, but Sam receives a voicemail after a few minutes. He'll listen to it later.
“And I know this is really sudden, but I didn’t wanna leave without saying goodbye.”
But when Sam checks his phone again to see two more missed calls from Sebastian, he thinks maybe whatever is going on isn't worth ignoring.
"I'm sorry for leaving like this, for putting this all on you but I was too scared to talk to you. I guess this feels kinda like breaking up with someone over text huh? It's pathetic, I know." A weak laugh. "Sorry, not funny.”
So now Sam is running.
“I was planning on writing a letter, actually. Y'know, do this whole thing properly. But I sat down for like, two hours trying to think about what to say, and I just...I couldn't..." Sebastian hiccups, chokes back a sob that he had been holding back for the longest time. "God, I c-an't even write a stupid fucking n-note, what's wrong with me?" He's so tired of trying to hide everything. He just wants to get this over with. "Sorry."
A part of Sam knows it's unrealistic to hope. To think he's just overreacting, that when he gets to his house, Sebastian will be curled up in bed, that Sam will yell at him for making him worry, that at least he'd be okay.
"So...I guess we both know this has kind of been a long time coming...You saw me, how I was. I know you did your best to get me out of it."
But Sam knows better.
"And I appreciate it, I don’t want you to think I don’t. I know I didn’t deserve it though. I should’ve been able to take care of myself.
He knows that Sebastian had to have been planning this for a while. He had to have been waiting for Sam to be out, or busy with his own thing. Waiting for the perfect time when no one would notice him slip away.
“I um…I thought it would get better. I tried to be better, I promise, I really did. But I just didn't...I don't want you to waste your time on me anymore."
And Sam let him. He had seen Sebastian stressing out day after day, working his ass off to meet unrealistic deadlines, even when it was clear that his heart was no longer in it and all he had left to give was his energy. Sam could tell he was wearing himself down, constantly nearing his breaking point. And when he attempted to confront Sebastian in hopes of getting him to give himself a break, it was always met with the same "I'm just really tired right now," or, on bad days, it was "I'm fine, get off my fucking back." Sam noticed that he was a lot less talkative than before, less even by Sebastian metrics, that on some days he wouldn't even make an effort to get out of bed. Sam knew there was something about him that was just off all the time. And Sebastian would use the same excuses over and over, always trying to convince him that it wasn't a big deal. In hindsight, he realizes that waiting patiently, assuming that Sebastian would come to him when he was ready, was probably one of the most stupid things he could've done.
”So yeah...I guess this is goodbye then.”
Sam did nothing, and now this is the price he has to pay.
So he runs, and runs, until his legs feel like they're on fire, praying that he'll make it on time, hopes that Sebastian is still safe at home and hasn't tried to do anything yet. But when Sam finally makes it up the mountain and rushes through Sebastian's front door, it's too quiet inside, too empty.
"Seb?" he calls out, to no response.
He frantically makes his way down to the basement, pushing open Sebastian's bedroom door, when he stops in his tracks upon noticing that the room felt...strange. Sebastian's room has never been this, well, clean. There were always comics scattered across the table, a few pieces of laundry atop his bed ("Why would I put it away when I'm just gonna wear it again tomorrow?"), or pairs of dice on the floor that he always complained about stepping on but never felt like picking up.
Right now, however, it was uncharacteristically tidy. The bed was made, his books and his little figurines all neatly organized into their shelves. It was all so spotless, so...not Sebastian. The entire room looked like it hadn't even been lived in for years, save for a few loose papers strewn about on the desk. A few of them are completely crumpled, and Sam has half a mind to open them up and see what he thought was worth throwing away. But then I was planning on writing a letter echoes through his head, and suddenly, the thought of staying in this room any longer makes him feel sick.
So Sam runs back upstairs and begins desperately checking every room in the house, continuously calling out Sebastian's name. His pulse starts picking up with every room that comes up empty, and pretty soon, he feels like he's running out of ideas. It's not until Sam steps back outside the house that he notices it. The garage door is open, and Sebastian's motorcycle is nowhere to be found. As soon as the realization hits him, his blood runs cold.
The cliff.
Of course that's where he would be, why didn't Sam think of it sooner?
Sebastian's spot at the cliff is miles out from Pelican Town. The bus isn't running right now, and even if was, there's no way Pam would be sober enough to drive. He doesn't have a license, doesn't even own a car, pretty much nobody in town except Mayor Lewis owns one. It would take hours to get there on foot.
As Sam starts making his way back down the mountain, he fumbles to pull out his phone and call Robin, hoping to Yoba she'd know what to do, when all of sudden it starts ringing and his screen flashes.
Incoming call: Sebastian
Sam answers immediately.
“Seb, hey.” Sam throws on a nervous smile, as if Sebastian can sense him, hoping it'll mask the overwhelming dread that washes over him, even just a little.
Sebastian is unresponsive from the other end. Sam knows Sebastian didn’t expect him to answer his phone, and for a moment he's afraid that he'll hang up. But after a few seconds of silence he can make out a weak voice.
“Oh, Sam...you picked up.” The relief of hearing Sebastian's voice quickly washes when Sam realizes how disappointed he sounds.
“Of course I did...it's um...how are you?." Sam inwardly curses himself for not being able to come up with anything better to say.
"I didn't think you'd..." Sam's heart drops. Think he'd what? Didn't think he'd answer? Didn't think he'd care? The rest is left unsaid, but Sam is overtaken by the guilt because how could be make his best friend feel like he wouldn't be worried for? "Aren't you supposed to be at the Fair?"
"I am- I was. I went to look for you. You kinda...you disappeared on us, back there." Sam tries to chuckle, keep things lighthearted, unsure if it's more for Sebastian's sake or his own. But when he doesn't get a reply, he pauses. "I um...I listened to your voicemails."
"...Oh."
Sam's pace starts to pick up, and eventually, he's running again, taking a shortcut through a clearing in woods that he and Sebastian would wander around in for hours since they were kids, hidden away from the sun despite Robin's warnings of getting lost. They always ignored her, loving the thrill of staying out after dark and the comfort of each other's company. But the overhang of the trees only feels suffocating now.
“Seb, please just wait for me. I can bring you home, and we can talk." Sam tries to get the words out as best as he can through his breathy sprint. "Or we can go out to eat somewhere. You were telling me about that new place down in the city you wanted to check out last week.”
"Sam–"
"Or we can just stay your room, we don't even have to do anything, we can just sit in the dark until you're ready to go back out."
"...Sam–"
“Why, Seb? Why didn't– Why didn’t you come to me? You- We could’ve–" Sam stammered, the realization of the little time he had suddenly striking, his worst nightmare finally catching up to him. The thought spreads through his veins like poison. "I was always here for you!” He cries out, hearing his own voice bounce off the trees as if to taunt him and ask, Were you?
“Don’t yell please…” Sebastian sounds so small.
“Please, Seb…” Sam wades his way through the leaves and down the path, the winding stretch of dirt seeming impossibly long. "I'm sorry for not noticing how bad things were, I wanted to talk to you, and I swear I care about you, I just didn't know how to show it, let me take you home, I can just be there for you, all the time, whatever you need I'll do it, I'll be better to you, I promise. Just–" Sam pauses, takes a short moment to catch his breath, feeling like he could collapse at any moment. "Please come home..."
For a long moment, Sam is once again met with silence, nothing coming through his speaker except for the sound of harsh wind, and he starts to fear that maybe at this point he’s already too late. That sometime in his ramble Sebastian stopped listening and this was it. And Sam hates that his initial regret is that he didn't prepare himself more.
“Don’t wanna go home…I'm sorry, I'm just so tired.”
Sam keeps stumbling down the hills, the air trapped in his lungs. He doesn't have a plan anymore, just go. He wants to tell himself to not give up so easily, because Sebastian deserves so much more than someone who won't even try. He focuses on keeping Sebastian on the phone, still with no idea of how he is going to make it to the cliff. He doesn't acknowledge the fact that someone else is inevitably going to find Sebastian. Some stranger is going to find his body at the edge of the valley, broken and battered beyond repair, and his family will have to be called in to identify him. And Sam is going to have to live the rest of his life without his best friend, will have to die with the knowledge that he couldn't make it on time. No, he's definitely not thinking about it.
“Seb, please.” Sam's words get caught in this throat, choked back by a sob that he was so desperate not to let out. He wants so badly to scream, cry, beg some more, but what good would that do at this point? Sam's efforts to reach out for the past few months were fruitless. He wasn't even paying attention to know that his friend had completely up and left town today. Sam knows in the deepest pits of heart that even if he could find the right words, they would fall on deaf ears, and nothing he could say right now would be enough to change Sebastian's mind...It would have never been enough.
”Bye, Sam.”
"No wait–"
click