Hawks don’t have names. They don’t love, or mourn. They watch for predators, and hunt prey. They’re simple.

Up here above the world, the hawk was free. There was just the wind in his feathers, the sun on his back, and the endless blue sky that stretched out in every direction. He dipped his wing and flared his tail as he swept to the side, catching a thermal that boosted him even higher. Far below, his powerful eyes could see the shadows of animals moving through the clearing.

Hunger gnawed at his stomach, but it was mild. A small discomfort, far removed from the empty, aching hole that had—

The Hawk’s mind turned the pain aside like it would dodge a diving falcon. The human mind that shared its head was pushed far to the back. Ignored. Irrelevant. The Hawk didn’t think about loss. Didn’t wonder about what might have been. The Hawk’s heart didn’t skip a beat, only to die all over again every time it saw the sun shine off a girl’s blonde hair. It didn’t study her face with its powerful eyes, searching for a trace of familiar beauty.

He scanned the earth far below, watching a rabbit dart through the underbrush, its small shape barely visible. It paused under the boughs of a bush, its breathing quick and shallow. The Hawk saw its chance and stooped, tucking its wings in close and accelerating. It was the epitome of focus. Everything in its world had narrowed to the sight of its prey, crouched in the shadow of incomplete shelter. The Hawk’s claws came forward as its tail feathers flared wide. Its wings expanded slowly, bleeding off vertical speed, trading it for horizontal momentum.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

The kill was moments away. The rabbit’s ears rotated back toward him. Did it hear? It didn’t matter. It was too late.

Tobias, what are you doing?

The words felt like a bullet had grazed me mid-flight. My wings flared wide, catching the wind awkwardly. My heart slammed against my chest, startled. My beak opened involuntarily as the sudden shift knocked me off course. I spiraled hard to the right before flapping madly, trying to regain control.

What the hell?!

I thought. I was myselff, like I hadn’t been for a long time. Weeks, at least.

I said, what’re you doing?

The voice came again, and my flight—barely recovered with a lot of undignified flapping—was nearly lost again. There was no mistaking that voice. Not for me.

Rachel?!

I practically shouted within my own mind.

Duh. Who else?

But you’re dead.

I responded, surprise making me blunt. I came in to land on a branch. Not my branch, but I didn’t trust myself to fly just then. My claws scraped against the rough bark, and I perched uneasily, the weight of the moment pressing down on me.

Double duh.

With the hawks’ powerful eyes I scanned the horizon, searching the blue sky, hoping against hope I would see the distinctive silhouette of a bald eagle. But there was nothing. Just a few songbirds, frolicking just above the tree tops, blissfully unaware.

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I spoke in open thought-speech, hoping it would clear my head. Trying to ignore the part of me that desperately wanted that little voice of my dead friend to keep speaking.

Ohhhh yeah. You spent so long pretending to be a hawk, I’m probably just some part of your subconscious sent to snap you out of it.

I could hear the smile as she spoke. See her blue eyes twinkling with amusement at my disbelief.

Probably?

Definitely probably.

I shook my hawk’s head from side to side, trying to rattle my brain back into order. The tree swayed slightly under me, and the cool wind swept through the leaves, but it did nothing to clear my mind.

No, you’re hiding.

Now her tone had shifted. This wasn’t the good-time, let’s-make-jokes Rachel. This was the Rachel who saw right through you and wouldn’t let you off the hook. The Rachel who knew me better than I knew myself.

Please tell me I’m not about to be lectured by my own subconscious.

I only said probably. But you still haven’t answered me. What are you doing, Tobias?

I don’t know what you mean.

I ducked my head to clean my wing, a nervous gesture. The act of preening felt hollow, like everything else.

Oh, you don’t? So you're telling me you’ve just been out here playing hawk since they brought my body back for no particular reason?

I flinched even as I was back there in my memory. Rachel, wrapped in cloth as her body was carried out of the Andalite ship. Retrieved from space, where the remaining controllers on the Blade Ship had jettisoned her. Cassie and Rachel's mom had been there, waiting to identify her, but I hadn’t needed to see the cloth removed. My excellent vision had been a curse that day.

You can’t notice anything. You’re a corpse.

My tone was hollow.

Pretty sure I’m ashes. Cassie wouldn’t let them bury me.

You’re not her. I tried to reject the voice, but my protest felt weak even within my own mind.

Probably not. But I must be better than nothing. You’re the one who came up with me.

I was silent for awhile, considering this new horrifying brand of madness. What did it say about me that this is what my breakdown looked like? What did it say about me that I didn’t want her to stop talking? Finally, I decided to answer her question.

I’m… surviving.

It felt true enough.

I don’t belong anywhere. Not as a human. Not anymore.

Crap. Total, and complete crap.

Rage flared up in my chest at her words. How could she be so dismissive?

You—

I was stuck for a moment, my wings flaring in agitation before I found a way to give voice to my anger.

You died.

It was an accusation.

You left me, and you died and you left me alone! I could’ve come. We could’ve— She cut me off.

Died together?

Her voice was soft now. I felt the ghost of her fingers stroking my feathers for a moment, and I shivered with an agony for which there are no words.

Is that what you want, Tobias?

Hawks can’t cry, but me, the human inside. Trapped. I could.

Yes.

It was the only thing I could say.

Together.

There was silence for a while, and I was beginning to think the voice had gone when she suddenly spoke again.

Yeah, I can be kind of selfish.

My rage, already muted by my admission, washed out entirely. I could practically see the words falling from her lips. Her sad smile as she said each one.

But you can survive this. It’s not the first time you’ve seen me die, you know.

I was confused for a moment, but my memory carried me back to a different place, a different time. White sails and wooden ships filling the ocean, and a sky full of powder smoke.

Rachel, in her chimpanzee morph, swinging through a sailing ships rigging, chasing Visser 4 higher and higher. Then she was falling, torn in half by a cannonball. Dead. Gone. Then I saw Jake, with the back of his skull missing. Marco fought to keep his body from being shoved out of the boat.

They had both come out alive in the end.

Alive.

The word stuck in my mind. They had died, but they had survived. The shock of realization sent tingles through my body. I leapt off the branch, my claws releasing the rough bark, and powered my way back into the sky. Catching a thermal and riding it up, angling toward Cassie’s house. A well-worn trip in my memory.

Rachel—the voice in my head—must’ve been satisfied because she had fallen silent. Though in a way, I thought I could still feel her. Watching me as I flew; filled with painful, wonderful purpose.