18. Samantha

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By the time we got home from the party I was exhausted. I literally couldn't wait to go to bed. Mom and Dad put Rosie to bed while I changed into pyjamas. They knocked on my door and poked their heads in.

"All good, teenager?" Dad asked. I smiled.

"All good, old man," I smirked.

"Stop it with the 'old man'," Dad pouted. "I'm not an old man."

"You know I love you anyway," I said, hobbling over to my door and hugging him.

"Thanks again for tonight," I said. "It was awesome. And thanks for the song. I feel like I've heard it before, but I can't remember where. It's not on Trench, or Vessel. And I know Blurryface backwards and forwards. Which album is it on?"

"None. Not yet. It's new and it'll go on the new album Josh and I are working on," Dad sighed. "I want to talk to you about it, actually. Come, get into bed. I'll tell you about it."

"Oookay," I said, sceptically, and hobbled my way over to my bed. Dad held the covers up for me and I climbed in and he tucked me in.

"I," he started, and his eyes filled with tears.

"Dad?" I said.

"I wrote that song last year. For you."

"For me?" I asked. He nodded.

"I wrote it, I started writing it when the trial started," he said. I nodded. "Mostly it started as a song about how much you'd overcome. And for the most part it still is. But after your accident, the one in the shower, it morphed a little bit. We didn't know if you'd survive. The doctors were preparing us that you might not have. So, it was going to be..."

He trailed off and looked away, tears falling freely from his eyes. I waited, but took his hand.

"It was going to be your funeral song, if we lost you," he finished, crying harder now. I pulled myself up and wrapped my arms around him.

"I'm sorry, Dad," I said. "I'm sorry I did that. I just, I wanted to sleep. I wanted to sleep without nightmares."

"I know, baby. I know," he said. "I wish we could have shielded you from all of it. So you didn't hurt so much."

I frowned.

"Despite all that, I think I'm glad I knew what was going on. Because I knew what Mark was really up to. I guess. If I hadn't know what he was up to, I might have gone on trusting him and I could be in London right now at a boarding school."

"Wait," Dad said. "You would have been boarding at the school?"

"I think so, yeah. The upper school is a boarding school."

Dad frowned.

"Well, now I'm extra glad we fought so hard. What would be the point of having you stay with them in England if they were just sending you away to school?"

I shrugged.

"But," I said. "That still doesn't explain why I feel like I've heard that song before."

"Oh," Dad said. "I sang it to you when you were in a coma. You started waking up soon after."

I traced Dad's tattoos. It always calmed me down and relaxed me when we talked about tough stuff, or I needed to calm down from a nightmare.

"It's really good," I whispered. "I'm glad I got to hear it again."

Dad smiled down at me.

"Me too. And I can sing it without crying. Because the first time I sang it I couldn't finish it."

I hugged Dad again.

"Sam?" He asked.

"Yeah?"

"How are you feeling about the new baby?"

"I'm excited. Are you and Mom going to find out if it's a boy or a girl?"

"We might," he said. "I just wonder, what will your relationship be like with the new baby?"

"I'm gonna love them. They're my baby - sibling. Rosie and me, we'll keep that kid safe and in line," I smiled.

"Mom and I are worried, well, not really worried, I don't know how else to describe it.  We're wondering if you'll be as close to this one as you are to Rosie."

I looked at Dad. He was smiling.

"Well, can I be honest?"

"I would appreciate that," Dad said.

"I think I told you after my accident before Rosie was born, that I think I met her. Her soul, maybe? I don't know if I believe in souls, but I remember 'meeting' someone in my coma.

I have no intentions of lapsing into another coma between now and April, so I don't know if this baby and I will have a connection like Rosie and I do. But the little Nugget is still my baby Nugget. And you know I'll protect that kid with my life. Like Rosie."

Dad hugged me.

"I was thinking along those lines, too. Nugget, huh?"

"Well, Rosie was Peanut. This one is Nugget."

"I like it. Alright you. Get some sleep. Your uncles are coming for brunch tomorrow."

He kissed me on the head and said goodnight. Mom came in a few minutes later to say goodnight.

"Your dad really, really loves you, you know," she said to me. I smiled.

"I know. And I love him. And you. And Rosie. And Nugget."

"Nugget?" Mom asked. I pointed at her stomach.

"Ah," she smiled. "Nugget."

"Rosie was Peanut, this is Nugget."

"I love you Samantha Joseph. Sleep well."

"Love you too, Mom. See you in the morning."

Mom left and I lay in my bed thinking. Dad had written a song he thought he'd have to sing at my funeral. It was dumb to have taken off my sensor and pumped extra insulin just to try and sleep without nightmares.

I had done something dangerous and stupid, and my parents didn't do anything to me. They helped me heal from it. They made sure I talked to Doc and worked with me through all- everything - since the day I landed in their back yard.

It had taken five years and then two more tumultuous years, but I had a real family. I was finally home.

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