Psycho ➳ H.S.

Epilogue

Note: Please read this chapter at your own discretion.

Five Years Later

The rain that poured down outside drummed upon the roof of Carissa's home. It had rained for almost five days straight, and tonight was filled with thunder and lightning too. It wasn't what she had expected for an October evening before her birthday, and clearly not how she wanted to wake up- especially at two in the morning. Turning twenty-seven certainly didn't feel as fabulous as it should have.

She sat up in her bed and stretched her arms, then her neck, and finally took the time to examine how the sky looked outside. It was a dark grey overcast, churning a rampant storm in itself over the ocean. The palm trees blew in the wind and threatened to fly away into the distance if the breeze was strong enough. The vociferous roar of the thunder, paired with the blinding flash of lightning, made for quite the show when sleep seemed to escape her.

Malibu was quite scary when storms rolled about because the citizens always talked about their fear of hurricanes that would sweep their possessions away from them. Carissa looked around her room and acknowledged the fact that she really didn't have much in it. Her clothes filled up the closet, her dressing table had a few boxes with pieces of jewellery in them, and her cellphone lay on her side table. She picked it up and looked at the screen, only to see no messages or missed calls from her husband. Carissa groaned and placed it back where it initially sat, hoping she'd receive one or the other soon. She caught sight of her wedding ring when she drew her hand back, lauding at the diamond stone placed right in the center of a silver wedding band.

She ran her hand through her long, dark hair and inhaled slowly. She held in her breath until she felt her head grow numb; then she released it. She lay herself back onto her back and snuggled up with her blanket, missing the presence of someone beside her- she missed the man with curly, brown hair, electrifying green eyes, and a smile that could light up a whole town. She thought of him again and smiled at her fortune of having the chance to love him- even now, even still.

Just before she settled back to sleep, a small knock came from her bedroom door. Carissa sat up and flicked the lamp switch on, illuminating the room with a dim glow. She watched the door handle slowly turn- carefully, as if the person on the other side were opening a safe- and then the door creaked open.

There, in the space between the hallway and her room, stood a small boy of the age of three. For a moment she admired him: his deep, hazel eyes glistened in the light, the smooth skin of his cheek resting against the door frame, and his dark hair stuck up in various spots after tossing and turning to try and sleep through the storm. He leaned against the wall and peered in, looking for his mother, and when his eyes found her he scratched his head.

"Landon? Is something wrong?" she called to her son softly.

The child heaved his blanket- which was dragging along the floor- up over his head and shuffled into the room. Carissa saw a small pasta stain on his shirt and sighed- she had just washed his pajamas yesterday morning and they were already dirty. It was a habit she was convinced had derived from his father. The blue cotton, splashed with pictures of little dancing monkeys, donned a splotch of orange which she was sure would need extra detergent to get out.

"Mommy, can I sleep with you?" he asked, waiting at her husband's side of the bed for permission to climb on. Carissa smiled and nodded. She turned and grabbed the prosthetic leg that was leaning on her side table and strapped it on, then walked to the door and shut it again. She bent down and picked Landon up, then set him on the bed. Carissa returned to her space and took off her leg, then pulled a pillow from her husband's side of the bed to give to her son.

"What are the flashies outside?" he asked, watching his mother fluff a pillow for him.

"Lightning. Electricity in the sky," she replied. He lay down on the pillow, curling up as Carissa pulled the blanket over him.

"Is daddy coming home?"

Carissa exhaled and smiled weakly at his sanguine eyes.

"Soon, baby. Hopefully soon," she reassured, kissing him on the forehead, "Go to sleep. It's just a storm. I'm right here."

With that, Landon closed his eyes and nuzzled his face into his father's pillow. Carissa faced him and gently rubbed his back, helping him fall back asleep. With very subtle movements, she reached for her phone to check the time: 2:18 AM.

Her eyes grew weary from waiting. Lead weights seemed to attach themselves to her eyelids and slowly brought them down to a close. The storm rolled out for the rest of the evening, providing a white noise for her to fall asleep to.

The next morning, Carissa awoke to the sun beating in from the window. The storm had passed and was out of sight- and so was Landon. She looked around in search for him, but all that was left of him was his rocket ship blankie laying on the bed. She rubbed her face with her hands and reached for her prosthetic, put it on, then started towards the door.

"Landon?" she called, "Landon, baby, where are you?"

The house was silent. Landon was usually up by now, watching television with the volume up so he could sing along to the songs of his favourite television programs. Her husband should've been home by now too, but his cell phone wasn't on his side table where it usually was. She ventured out into the hallway and down the stairs. It was still unusually quiet.

"Landon, honestly-" she groaned, taking a sharp turn into the kitchen.

Suddenly, confetti fell all over her head.

Landon sat on the island, cross legged, a new set of pajamas on, with a party hat atop his locks, forcing himself to hide his marvelous grin.

A homemade cheesecake with a candle in the shape of a question mark sat in front of Landon, alongside plates of french toast and pancakes and a plate of bacon and eggs- not to mention a bowl of cubed fruit.

A pair of arms wrapped tightly around her waist from behind, and a familiar pair of lips pressed a plethora of kisses to the skin of her cheek and neck.

"Happy birthday, princess," her husband's raspy morning voice greeted her. She laughed and turned to him, meeting his smiling eyes. He picked some confetti out of her hair.

"You dick...you didn't even call last night," she said with a raise of her eyebrow. His large hands supported her back as she leaned away from his puckered lips. His facial expression changed from loving to a pretend state of shock.

"Excuse me? After all of this hard work? That's all you have to say to me?" he scoffed, then turned to his son, "Your mum's so unappreciative of what I do, honestly-"

"Only because your dad came home at god knows what hour," she replied, draping her arms around his neck and leaning up to him. He placed a kiss on her nose and spun her around, leading her towards the island filled with food.

"Landon? Do you wanna tell mum what we did this morning before she woke up?" he asked his son, whose eyes lit up with excitement.

"We made pancakes...daddy helped me make them look like people!" he exclaimed, pointing to the plate with little pancake people on them- a mother, a father, and a child. Carissa smiled at the evident effort her son put into pressing the cookie cutters into the flapjacks. She looked at him and sure enough, his father had let him eat the leftovers with syrup- his face was sticky.

"What else, pal? What else did we make?"

"We made toast! And ba...um...ba..." Landon struggled with a word he didn't quite know yet.

"Bacon," he whispered into his ear to give him a hint.

"Bacon," Landon repeated, "We made bacon, mom."

"I love it, Landon, thank you," she smiled, kissing him on the cheek. He gave his mother a hug and grinned wide- a dimple indenting at the left of his mouth.

"What about me?" her husband inquired with a tone of cheekiness. She turned and crossed her arms, smirking at his silly expression which he had clearly put on for Landon's entertainment.

"I'm only kissing you if that bowl of fruit was cubed by hand."

"Of course it was. We've been married for three years; how could you possibly ask me something so ridiculous?"

Carissa thought back to the ring on her finger; inscribed on the inside were the words, "You're the only one". She sighed and turned back to Landon.

"Did daddy cut that fruit by himself?"

Landon looked to his father, who was evidently nodding his head in order to get him to imitate him. Landon, however, shook his head and grinned.

"You'll raise a liar," she teased. He shrugged, leaned in and kissed her. The both of them still felt the rush that the other gave them- even now, even still. He kissed her even harder, and Landon covered his eyes, giggling.

"I love you, Carissa," he murmured into her mouth.

"Love you too, Harry," she whispered back. She pulled away and picked up a piece of honeydew and gave it to her son, who munched on it while she and Harry ate the pieces of french toast. Landon also indulged in his little pancake people, which Harry had drizzled chocolate sauce and syrup onto just for him.

They spent the next hour standing around the kitchen, finishing the food Harry and Landon had prepared and setting the cake in the fridge for later. It was more than anything Carissa could've imagined- a small house in Malibu, right on the seaside, with the two men she loved most: one that put her in a white dress three years ago, and one who turned his party hat into a beak and laughed hysterically when his father picked him up and zoomed around the room.

After cleaning up, Carissa sat in the living room and drank her cup of coffee as she watched the news. Landon was playing with his toys on the rug in front of her. Harry came in and plunked himself beside Carissa, placing his arm around her so she could lay on his shoulder. Even after all this time, she still relished in the smell of mint, sweet musk and just a hint of spice.

"Sorry I didn't call last night. Reception was down because of the storm. Got home at, like...three, maybe?"

"Why so late?"

"I had to close up and nobody wanted to stay. Oddly enough, they made me wash the dishes," he smiled. Carissa thought back to when they first met, and her 'punishment' for making him clean instead of cook. He had come a long way- ever since becoming a father, he was more than willing to clean a couple of plates. Mr. Dale resigned from his managerial spot after Lucas had been revealed to be a killer, leaving his title to Vince, who rehired Carissa and promoted Harry to head chef to take his place when he wasn't in Britain.

"It's okay," she chuckled, "I was just worried you got hurt or something."

He kissed her temple and resumed watching the news broadcast.

"...Today is a major day for a local researcher by the name of Dr. Christopher Jung. Only five years ago, the late Dr. Steven Hirsch, Jung's partner, developed formulas that were trying to replace the common anesthesia by using pathogens and viruses, which were created in a laboratory- in other words, the formulas were contained. The viruses were supposed to act upon the central nervous system- the brain in particular- to slow down the messages being sent, putting the body in a sleep-like state. When local man, and now British Olympian, Harry Styles, was accidentally injected in an attack at the hospital, the formula was thought to have been another failure.

"Mr. Styles was put into a coma for nearly two weeks because of a failing immune system and a pH of 8.2 in his blood caused by the virus. They did transfusions to try and stop his blood from being too alkaline, but the new blood became infected within hours. The doctors predicted he wouldn't make it out alive, but after a nurse administered a buffer- carbonic acid- to neutralize his blood in preparation for his death, the virus was killed within seventy-two hours. The test tubes initially contained various viruses, and it was out of sheer luck that the virus Mr. Styles was injected with could be neutralized with a buffering agent.

"After Mr. Styles awoke, his anti-bodies were collected and recreated by Dr. Jung, which today has been announced as the other half to the recipe of natural anesthesia. The virus' DNA has been replicated and can be administered to patients who undergo surgeries, and the anti-bodies and painkillers are given- should the carbonic acid not work- after the surgery. These formulas are being sold all over the world for the same price as regular anesthesia, but is considered to be more effective. Both Dr. Jung, the late Dr. Hirsch AND Mr. Styles, who was coincidentally the very first human test subject, have given us a step forward in scientific fields of study. It has been approved in countries all over the world, and its success rate is double that of its predecessor."

"I still can't believe you made it out okay," Carissa stated, setting her mug down on the coffee table.

"I'm part of a step forward in scientific discovery...it's your birthday..." Harry smirked, "I think we should celebrate."

His cheeky grin indicated that his idea of celebration wasn't in the form of throwing a party or going out for dinner; he probably wanted to enjoy a meal under the covers, in bed. She rolled her eyes and pushed him away from her as he attempted to kiss her cheek.

"There's a child in the room, Harry," she scolded before he forced himself past her arms and kissed her anyway.

"He talks to himself. I think he's getting lonely. Maybe we could give him a friend, I don't know..." Harry suggested, pretending to look oblivious, as if he hadn't been thinking of it previously. "Landon! Who's your best friend?"

"Mommy," he replied without looking up, concentrating on organizing his dinosaur toys from largest to smallest.

"See? He's clearly lonely if his best friend is you," Harry teased. Carissa scoffed and flicked him on the arm, shooing him away. He hugged her tight and watched his son rearrange his dinosaurs by colour, then called for him to come over. Landon listened and scurried over to his father, who sat him upon his knee. "Landon, do you want more friends to play with?"

He seemed to think hard about his answer, but nodded his head with great enthusiasm.

"See? As his mother, you should try to fulfill his wishes," Harry said, then dropped his voice to a whisper, "not to mention my wishes as well."

Carissa tried to stifle her fit of laughter as best as she could, hiding her reddened face with her hand.

"Landon? Do you want to stay at Auntie Lucy's tonight?" she asked. He nodded his head and hopped off of Harry's knee, running upstairs to pack his things; he always enjoyed going to his aunt's apartment in Agoura Hills- the living room was painted with red and blue and taupe, and two hand prints were pressed onto the far wall. Though he liked playing in the sand with his parents when the days were warm, his aunt would always take him out to the city for a bite to eat or to play in the park. It was always very exciting to him.

"God, I love you," Harry whispered into the skin of her neck, kissing her subtly while his son was busy upstairs. He looked back up at her, and, with serious eyes and even more serious in tone, he remarked, "You're the only one- you know that don't you?"

She smiled and nodded her head, sharing a kiss with him to last an eternity. Carissa rested her head on Harry's chest as he played with her hair, waiting for Landon to come down with his backpack filled with his favourite clothes. She observed the little frames around the room- photos of them on their wedding day, with Harry and his groomsmen in a sharp tuxedos and Carissa in a luxe gown, polaroids of the gradual growth of her baby bump (which Harry insisted on putting up), snapshots of their son hanging on the wall from birth until now, a Christmas picture with Lucy and her fiance sitting on the bookshelf, one of Harry and his first Olympic silver medal adjacent, Landon in Mickey Mouse ears at Disneyland, posing with Cinderella, and the nostalgic photograph of the two of them holding their sandwiches up at the beach on the Fourth of July.

Needless to say, she hardly looked at Harry the way she did the first time they encountered each other at the movie theatre all those years ago. It was odd to think that for a period of time, she didn't know his name, nor want to. She didn't think that he'd be the one to make such a lasting impact on her (let alone be the one to post a photo online of himself flashing a peace sign in front of her belly while she was pregnant with the caption, "Hey guys, look what I made!"), but she was sure that for years to come, the words he chose to write on her wedding ring would always hold the same amount of meaning as they did when he first inscribed them.

The sun pushed past the streaks of clouds in the sky until none remained. Things were well, and she knew that no matter what happened, they would always be as long as they had each other.

"Likewise."


The End

Thank you so much for reading Psycho. Please look out for our new fics, which will be coming out soon! You are the best lot of readers anybody could ever ask for- love from Candice and Melissa.

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