Closed A New Hope
[Closed w/ AegonAustin]
#1
Had he known that the last time he spoke with his parents, that it would truly be the last time... Perhaps their conversation would have gone better.  "You were born to follow into the family business!  There is nothing else for you but becoming a lawyer, Roswell, that is what this family is, lawyers! he could still hear his father screaming those words at him from the top balcony of their home.  And him, screaming back, "Then I suppose we're no longer family, because I'm going to become a teacher!  My professor already sees me becoming a great one! was shouted as he stormed out of the house, unaware that this would be the last time he would be able to properly speak with either of his parents again.

That conversation took place when he was a College Freshman, when he was just nineteen.  He was twenty-three now, and... if circumstances were different, he'd have been in his final year of college.  A Senior.  Months away from graduation.  Roswell, or Ross, was stood in the hospital and watching as his father slowly breathed, the machine attached to his throat helping keep him alive.  He was on the opposite side of the containment wall.  Doctors, nurses, medical personnel in general were all wearing hazmat suits to protect themselves from the contagion that lain in wait in their patients bodies.  Of approximately 7.8 Billion people in the entire world, Roswell stood amongst the 1 Million that were still alive today.  After the Pandemic that took the entire world by storm, everyone was moved to the United States.  Cultures were now mixed, no one was allowed to leave the United States, not for a very long time anyway.  Not until what remained of the CDC and the Government dictated that outside travel was acceptable again.

Ross gave the doctor his nod of approval.  It was time to end his father's suffering, as much as he wanted to continue watching him suffer.  It was just time to let his past go.  The future was still ahead of him.  Once the final beep of the machine gave out, Ross turned on his heel and headed for the exit.  Even though the pandemic had been relatively 'contained' or so the news outlets stated; it still caused mass hysteria and panic.  People destroyed things that they had no reason destroying.  People looted buildings, stole things that were unnecessary.  People burned down buildings, homes, destroyed entire communities, for no other reason than selfishness.  They were worried, and Ross got that.  He did not understand why they destroyed, stole, or... really he didn't understand why people didn't just follow the laws that had been in place to protect the world from things spreading out of control like they had.  The entire world was in ruins now.  Large cities were mere shadows, shells of what they used to be, skyscrapers with windows blown out and their facades destroyed from generalized chaos.  The towns surrounding those large cities were now wastelands, piles of rubbish everywhere, they were landfills, where all of the 'unwanted' stuff got dumped.

Roswell sighed as he stopped outside of the hospital doors, just staring at the sky.  It was red, as if the world itself knew it had been doomed.  Knew that life was no longer what it used to be.  It spoke volumes without saying a word, and Ross couldn't help but to agree with the world's silent plea that things be returned to the way they had been.  There were rumors of a place that was nice, decent and wholesome, but he was sure they were just rumors.  There was no way there was anything out there like that, The New Hope Federation, that's what it was supposedly called, and Ross wanted to believe, wanted that place to be real... but with what this world had come too in just a span of three years, he doubted anyone or anything could be nice anymore.
[Image: 8Ww3nNU.png]
You can lead a horse to water, but cannot force a horse to drink.


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#2
It had been almost three years since Christiaan had spoken to his family. He assumed they were dead by now. After all, most of the people he had formed relationships with over his 20 years of life had died – nannies, childhood friends, teachers, coaches, doctors, high school friends. All dead. He was one of the lucky few that had survived.

Christiaan, or Chris, as most of his loved ones called him was born in The Netherlands but raised in Washington, DC. His father worked at the Dutch embassy. His mother was a teacher at one of the international schools in town. Chris lead a privileged life. He spoke four languages fluently. He had a diverse friend circle and was exposed to different cultures from an early age thanks to his father’s work as a diplomat. Chris loved to travel and his travels were highly encouraged by his parents.

Chris never thought that his love of travel would be the reason he would never see his family again. He was on a school-sponsored trip in Costa Rica when the hysteria hit. Governments began restricting travel and closing borders. Being diplomats, his parents and sister were quickly evacuated back to Europe. However, despite his father’s efforts to get him out of Costa Rica, the government refused to cooperate – shutting their borders completely.

“I’m still trying to get you out; I love you, son.” That was the last he heard from his father; from any member of his family for that matter. That was three months into the pandemic. Internet, radio, television and phone service had become spotty. Basic infrastructure was no longer being maintained. So, there had been no way for Chris to confirm whether or not his family was still alive. All he could do was wait and hope for the best.

Chris spent nearly eight months in Costa Rica until he was evacuated to the United States. There had been a global effort lead by the World Health Organization to send all of the healthy people to live in the U.S. Although Chris was thankful to be home, he returned to complete chaos. The country he remembered no longer existed.

To occupy his time and keep his sanity, Chris volunteered as a translator to help resettle people. In addition to knowing Dutch, French and German, Chris picked up Spanish in Costa Rica. So, his skills were highly needed. Money was no longer of any value. Bartering had become the norm. To ‘thank’ Chris for his services, many families offered him food, clothing and other goods. This is how Chris had survived the past three years.

***

Chris was wrapping up a long 12-hour day in one of the resettlement camps when a woman approached him hysterically crying. She had two toddlers in tow. It was very rare to see children under the age of three. Since the pandemic, most of the women had died. The women that survived either couldn’t get pregnant or didn’t want to bring children into this new and scary world.

Chris immediately recognized the language the woman was speaking as Russian. He knew a few sayings in Russian, but there was no way he would be able to effectively communicate to this woman.

“Anyone speak Russian!?” He shouted. No one answered him. “Come.” He said to the woman, extending his hand out and gesturing for her to follow him. Chris remembered a place in the camp where he had seen some eastern Europeans. Perhaps there would be someone there who could speak Russian.
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#3
Ross was aimlessly wandering around the settlement again after having actually left the hospital grounds, or what really passed as a hospital.  It was more clinic than anything these days but his dad had been there and that's where he had been when he wasn't at home or doing his own life's work - just because he didn't have his degree in teaching didn't mean he wasn't going to teach.  He had opened a school in the settlement, it was the elementary school that once was.  He taught everything he could think of to the available youth in their community, as small as the group was.

He looked up when he heard a woman speaking frantically in Russian, the two toddlers trying their hardest to keep up, and the man with them who looked lost beyond all comprehension. He recognized the woman, and the toddlers; they were basically his neighbors "Nadya, are you okay?" Ross asked of the woman, though he used Russian to speak with her. He had his own well-traveled languages; Russian, Chinese, Japanese and, of course, Spanish. His family had spent years representing worldwide companies, and learning these languages had, unfortunately -or fortunately, in his case- been just apart of being with his family as a child.

Ross looked to the man who was with Nadya, but he really didn't find him to be a threat. In fact, Ross found him to be relatively attractive, not that he was trying to pick up a boyfriend or anything else at the moment. He listened to Nadya as she rapidly explained what the problem was -not that there was a real problem to be had. Ross sighed and straightened up, running a hand over his head "She is trying to find her husband, is all...There is no real emergency." Ross explained to the young man that had been helping Nadya. Ross went on to explain to Nadya where her husband was located, pointing her in the right direction. Nadya quickly collected her two toddlers and headed toward the hospital "Her husband is a doctor... Nadya has memory problems, she sometimes forgets where her husband goes..." It was one of the most repetitive problems he ever dealt with. He smiled at the young man "Thanks for taking care of her, getting her this far... She usually stays home, but I guess she had to get out and get something and then forgot where to go..."
[Image: 8Ww3nNU.png]
You can lead a horse to water, but cannot force a horse to drink.


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#4
Chris was mentally exhausted from his long day in the camp. So, the 20-year-old was relieved when the four of them came across a young man familiar with the frantic woman. He was also thankful that the poor woman’s problem was easily resolved. Problems that were quickly fixable were few and far between these days.

The young man referred to the woman as Nadya and thanked Chris for taking good care of her. Chris had a soft spot for people in need. After all, it was only a few years ago that Chris himself was in a really bad place. And, had it not been for his close friends and family, he would have never been able to pull himself out of that dark place.

Chris had been a stellar gymnast. Throughout his adolescence he competed in competitions all over the world. It was his dream to compete in the Olympic games and he trained day and night to make that dream a reality. However, during his sophomore year in high school, he suffered an injury that derailed his promising career. After that, the teenager had nothing productive to do with his time. He fell into the wrong crowd at school and began using drugs and alcohol to cope with the pain of losing his lifelong dream.

Luckily, with the help of his parents, sister and childhood friends, Chris was able to regain control of his life before it spiraled completely out of control. That seemed like eons ago. That was a different time. A different world. Now, Chris faced a different set of problems. He had no family. Most of his friends had perished. And, due to his dedication to helping people within the resettlement camps, he had little time for a social life (not that there was much of a social life these days) – little time to make new friends.

Chris smiled at the young man. “No problem. I’m just glad she’s ok. I was worried about her, especially given the fact that she had two young kids with her. This place can make people crazy.” The pair chuckled awkwardly – acknowledging that the conditions in the camp were not ideal. “I’m Chris, by the way.” Chris waved his hand. Since the outbreak, shaking hands had become taboo, especially with strangers. “What’s your name?” Chris asked.
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#5
He hated the new way of greeting someone, handshakes had been so deeply ingrained in his system that reaching out to hold onto hands had been a norm for him; having to break that habit had been difficult and sometimes he often caught himself doing it -or, he'd be stared at like he was insane for holding his hand out like a beggar.

"Name is Roswell, though I go by Ross." He smiled and slid his hands into his pockets, not knowing what else to do with the twitching digits. He took a deep and steadying breath, offering another smile to Chris "You live around this area or were you just passing through? Nadya must recognize you from somewhere, she does not often go up to strangers like that..." He gave a quick glance around the area and then focused back on Chris. Could never be too cautious in this new world they lived; people, and animals, didn't always tend to be the nicest and could -or would- hurt you if they thought they'd get something from it.
[Image: 8Ww3nNU.png]
You can lead a horse to water, but cannot force a horse to drink.


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#6
“Nice to meet you, Ross. Yeah, I know, I still haven’t gotten used to the ‘no hand shake’ thing either.” Chris did an awkward pretend handshake before placing his hands back at his sides.

“And, yes, I do live around here. I have an apartment just outside the camp.” The WHO had provided Chris and many other volunteers with housing near the edge of the camp. “I’ve been volunteering here for about two and a half years. Maybe that’s why your friend recognized me.”

Ross seemed a bit nervous. He was fidgety and barely made eye contact with Chris, choosing to glance at the surroundings instead. “He must be new to the camp.” Chris thought. Ross was a handsome guy and Chris would have certainly noticed him had he been a regular at the camp.

“What about you? Are you new here? Are you part of the medical team? Is that how you know Nadya’s husband?” Chris stopped himself. The 20-year-old had a habit of being too intense sometimes, often asking several questions back to back without giving the other person time to respond. This usually happened when he was nervous. Ross was making him nervous. Ross was giving him butterflies. The man he had just met was making him feel things he hadn’t felt in a long time.
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#7
Ross blinked as he was suddenly bombarded with a multitude of questions, shaking his head as they flew "No... No." He exhaled slowly "I'm not new here. I've lived here for quite a while, I live over there-" he pointed toward the homes where Nadya lived, the Eastern European area. "I'm also not apart of the medical team, I just frequented the hospital for a time... That's how I know her husband." Ross rubbed the side of his neck and shrugged a little "I'm a teacher." He then pointed toward the general direction of the school "I teach ages five through eight..."
[Image: 8Ww3nNU.png]
You can lead a horse to water, but cannot force a horse to drink.


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#8
“Oh wow! That’s great; my mother’s a teacher…….well, was a teacher.” Three years later and it was still painful for Chris to talk about his family in the past tense. Chris let out a deep sigh. “Sorry, I still get a bit emotional when I talk about my family. I haven’t heard from them in nearly three years.”

Chris certainly wasn’t alone in this. So many people had suffered the loss of loved ones – some had died and some were still missing. Many witnessed their loved ones dying in front of them. Chris couldn’t imagine the pain of that. At least there was a chance Chris’ family was still alive. Although, sometimes Chris wondered whether or not it would be better to know for sure that they were dead. At least he would have some closure.
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#9
Ross saw the downtrodden expression on Chris' face and, in an totally characteristic Ross move, he reached over and lightly squeezed the other's hand "You don't know where they are?" He asked softly, eyes tracing the movements of Chris' face briefly. He glanced back toward the hospital, or its general direction, and sighed quietly "My father, he just died a few hours ago... He's one of the few who has lasted this long." He shrugged and started walking, making sure that Chris was following along "My mother passed away a long time ago... When this all first started. So, I was left alone rather early on... I don't have any other family members, or none that I worry about enough to wonder if they're alive, and if they are, where they are in this world." It might have sounded harsh, but his family life - immediate and extended - was anything but appreciated in Ross' eyes "Where are you from, originally? I was born in Florida..."
[Image: 8Ww3nNU.png]
You can lead a horse to water, but cannot force a horse to drink.


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#10
“I was born in The Netherlands, but I grew up in Northern Virginia, just outside of Washington, DC. Geez, I’m so sorry about your father. Are you ok? Or do you prefer not to talk about it?” Once again, Chris stopped himself from asking too many questions, giving Ross time to respond.

It was sad, but Chris had become numb to death. He had been around it so much. Everyone had been around it so much. But, despite that, he did his best to be compassionate. It was part of his job. But, from the way Ross talked about it so calmly, it seemed he too was numb to it.

As the pair walked through the camp, the sun was starting to set. Despite being exhausted, nighttime was Chris’ least favorite time of the day. It was when he felt the loneliest. It was when he thought about his family the most.
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#11
Ross nodded his head "Yeah, I'm okay. It's just... what is." He shrugged a little and sighed as he moved to sit on a slightly rotted bench in front of a few run-down looking homes "My dad and I were never close, got even further apart when I told him I wasn't going to do what he wanted me to do."

He ran a hand through his hair and looked out over the horizon, watching as the sun dipped lower "My dad, and my mom really, both wanted me to follow in the family trade. Become a lawyer." He laughed sarcastically and shook his head "Being a lawyer now would've been pointless. I made the right call, getting into childhood education." He glanced over at Chris "To this day, he still didn't see it. He didn't see that I would be doing the world good, by becoming a teacher."
[Image: 8Ww3nNU.png]
You can lead a horse to water, but cannot force a horse to drink.


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#12
“Well, I’m sure he was still proud of you regardless.” Chris felt slightly awkward. He didn’t know what else to say. Those type of statements generally worked with the grieving people within the camps. But, Ross seemed different. And Chris had a feeling his statement did little to comfort the young man.

On top of that, Chris’ parents were the total opposite of Ross’. They encouraged Chris to travel, see the world and follow his dreams. So, it was hard to relate to Ross’ feelings about his late father.

“Well, to be honest, I can’t relate to that. My parents always encouraged me to do what made me happy. So, I don’t really know what to say. Other than the fact that if you need someone to talk to, I’m happy to keep you company and hopefully take your mind off of things.”
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