This is PART 2 of Chapter 13 - A Star to a Space Heater! Please make sure you have read Part 1 first, or else this will make an awful lot less sense!

TRIGGER WARNING: descriptions of child abuse in memories (emotional manipulation, nothing physical), summary at the end and bolded notification at the start

Inside wasn't much better.

The hallways felt long and slow, simultaneously tiny and far too wide. The floors were covered in brown carpets with neat, geometric patterns, and pictures had been hung on the walls, varying from Raconteur cityscapes, to Waverwell's flag of the green bear, to trees, to views of the Twin Mountains and Cat's Cradle. Corville appeared every so often, including skillful photos of Waverwell's government building. Doors were spaced out, leading to offices, filming studios, meeting rooms, and other buildings. As they drew closer to the main entrance, chairs and benches had been fitted against the walls.

Charlie's skin still crawled, and her hands were curled into tight fists, the only outlet for her energy since she couldn't run.

"Breathe, Charlie," Ferris murmured. "No one is angry with you."

"No," she sneered back. "You're not angry, you're disappointed. You don't have to pretend. I've been down this road enough. My tongue got the better of me, and now you're disappointed in my actions. Just cut to it so we can get this over with."

"I assure you, I'm not. We will figure this out, and the first step of that is seeing just what was released onto television and what is out there. It all depends on what Waverwell News aired and what people who were in the live audience put onto Muse and shared with friends."

"Uh, huh, fine," Charlie mumbled.

Someone was sitting on one of the chairs, and Charlie thought they looked familiar. She frowned, racking her brain for who it could be, until it hit her.

They looked just like Alaska Wendell March... only not.

Kansas Sampson March had mousy brown hair that was tangled into knots, and bags dark enough to mirror bruises hung beneath her eyes. Her clothes were rumpled, and Charlie was pretty sure Kansas's shirt was inside out beneath her wrinkled sweatshirt.

She took a long drink from a to-go cup of coffee. Charlie guessed it wasn't her first from how jittery she was.

When Kansas saw NYTE, she leapt up from her chair, reaching out a shaky arm. "Wait!" she cried as she weaved through the throng of bustling people.

"Yeah?" Charlie replied.

"Are you that.... Oh, I'm sorry. What is it. That-. That group." She frowned, fingers on her chin. Charlie wondered when the last time she slept was. "Ashley Baok?" she asked with a hopeful look.

"He's my brother," Kristin said, head raising in what Charlie knew to be a slightly defensive posture that he sometimes adopted when he wasn't sure what to expect. His back straightened, and his gaze hardened.

"I'm sorry."

"Are you Kansas Sampson March?" Charlie asked. She was nearly certain —the resemblance to Alaska Wendell March was very close— but she wasn't completely certain.

"Yeah," she murmured, gaze falling to the ground. She wore a pair of red sneakers that reminded Charlie of the ones Ashley used to always wear.

"I'm sorry about Alaska," Ferris offered. "Although I'm sure you've already heard that many, many times."

Kansas nodded. "Yeah, I've heard it a bunch." Her shoulders fell, and her whole body seemed to deflate like a popped balloon.

She took a step back, and the group followed.

"I... I'm-. A-A-Alaska was a... a great person, I-I'm s-sure," Zip offered.

"Yeah." A smile tugged at Kansas's mouth, and her gaze turned distant as her face lightened. "She was an amazing person. Heart of gold. Best sister I could've ever asked for. She was such a hard worker. She wanted to become a veterinarian so she could turn her love for dogs into a job. She would've been such a great vet." Kansas slowly sank back into her chair, fist pressed to her mouth.

They were now all at the edge of the hallway, close to the entrance of the main Waverwell News building, but far enough away that they were out of sight and in a slightly more private environment. The crowd of people had slowed, leaving only small groups coming and going every so often.

"I'm sure she would've been a wonderful vet," Ferris murmured.

"I heard Ashley was murdered by the Trinity." It wasn't a question— Charlie didn't have to have been out in the world much to know that nearly everyone knew Ashley's name and the picture of him smiling as he posed by the Waverwell government building, the one Kristin had eventually landed on to give to Waverwell News after being asked. He hadn't been sure which picture of his brother to select.

Muse was crawling with people saying how sad it was the Trinity was out there and has killed someone, how horrible it was that people were capable of something as despicable as taking a life, how they were no longer human, questions of what would drive someone to cross that line and commit an act as heinous as a murder. Charlie hoped that their interview would shift even just a little of the focus back onto Ashley, to remind people that there was far more to him than how his life ended at the hands of monsters.

"He... he was." Kristin's voice trailed off to a hoarse whisper.

"Alaska was too." Kansas stared off into the distance. Her voice was flat, but the pain and darkness in her expression were anything but. "I... you know how you can know something in your heart for certain before it's ever confirmed? I knew that about Alaska. I knew something terrible had happened to her. I didn't need an officer to tell me something had happened to my sister, because I already knew in my gut. Still would've never guessed dead in a million years, though. How can you guess that about a family member? They could be gone for years and years and years and you'd still cling to some small threat of hope that you'd find them alive, even when everything was saying it was impossible for them to survive. You can know it in your heart, but there's that difference between knowing it's true, and-. And saying it out loud, even when you know there's no logical way they're alive. You don't want them to be gone like that. You want that fantasy where they're just living their life on some beach sipping from those umbrella drinks, even though there's no way they wouldn't contact you unless they were dead. Cuz they're your family— how are you supposed to think they're dead?"

"You can't." Kristin's voice was barely a breath, barely audible.

"You can't!" Kansas echoed. "I was sure I was hearing wrong when Ryzor Oberhofer showed up to my door and told me that my sister had been murdered. I mean, how are you supposed to believe that? You can't! And then... and then he told me this morning that it was the Trinity. The Trinity, this trio of monsters that have killed at least Ashley and Alaska, maybe more. It's bad enough hearing that your sister was murdered, adds some other level of horrible when you don't even know who did it. Can't get whatever closure knowing what happened might bring, if it even would. I mean, I thought it was Alaska's ex-boyfriend. Ryzor did too at first. They didn't have a good relationship, and he was always asking to get back together. Never liked it when she said no. Got real pushy about it and got so angry when she befriended another male coworker. Nearly sent him to the hospital. I was so glad when he got fired— Alaska was always so nervous with him, so on edge."

The words flowed from Kansas like a river overflowing with pain and grief.

Charlie just stood there and listened, let Kansas say whatever she needed to. No one butted in or told her to stop.

"I... I just felt like I needed to come here. Heard you were... you were gonna be here." Kansas pulled her sweatshirt sleeve over one of her hands and twisted it in her grip, knuckles white as her lip trembled and shook. "I wanted to see you. Don't really know why. Maybe it was just because it felt like you were the only ones who might understand. People are nice and all, but there's only so many times you can hear I'm sorry for your loss and Alaska was such a kind person before you start twitching. And they might miss Alaska and of course they do, but they didn't spend so much time with her. They can't get it. And I guess this just felt like doing something. I know it won't get answers cuz I know if you knew who the Trinity was and why Ashley was murdered, it would be plastered across the country for everyone to see. Clips of the Trinity being led away in handcuffs would be everywhere, even though I know that will only cement the Trinity in history and leave Ashley and Alaska as footnotes."

Kansas sighed. "Time and place for the villains, but I want to see the heroes. I know Alaska fought back. I know she clawed and kicked with everything she had. I know she would've never made it easy. My sister is a hero. She did what she felt she needed to do to try to survive. But the Trinity didn't let her. They took her life over some reason that will never make sense."

"Alaska is a hero," Ren said.

"She is," Ferris agreed, and Charlie nodded— Alaska was a hero. Ashley, too.

"What are they doing to find them?" Kansas asked, hunched over her lap, body curled up in a position that reminded Charlie of a prayer.

No one needed clarification. What are they doing to find the Trinity? The murderers who had taken at least two lives, potentially more.

"I know Larson Hotch from the Moonfall Precinct, as well as Asa and Azrael Smith and the rest of the task force for Ashley Baok's case have been compiling a timeline for Ashley's past, interviewing everyone he had come in contact with, and they have been looking into the witness to Ashley's murder. I'm assuming Ryzor Oberhofer and the Corville Precinct are doing something similar for Alaska's case, of course tailored to fit her life and the information they've gathered from the scene of her, uh, murder." Ferris tripped over the last words, and Kansas flinched.

It was so brutal, so final, left so little to the imagination. Nothing about it was an accident, every letter, every syllable, every detail was intentional, whether pondered long in advance or decided upon in a split second. There was nothing to second-guess, no other alternatives. Everything was so final.

"Have they found the witness? They might know what the Trinity looks like." Kansas looked up from her folded hands, tired eyes full of dull sparks of hope.

Charlie felt the group hesitate collectively.

Someone had caught wind of Felix Fisk's name and had released it.

"Yeah," Charlie replied. "It wasn't supposed to be released, but yeah, the Moonfall Precinct knows who he is. They weren't going to release his identity to keep him safe considering the threat the Trinity poses."

The corner of Kansas's mouth pulled down into a grimace, and she exhaled a sharp breath. "That's..." she took another breath. "That's not good. And I don't even know what to say."

She sat up, running a hand through her hair. A finger caught on a knot. "I can't even keep it together. I'm a mess. I could hardly get myself dressed, and my shirt is inside out and I nearly put my shoes on the wrong feet and I couldn't even brush my hair. How am I supposed to find who did this to my sister if I can't even look presentable?"

Kristin folded himself to the ground, crossing his legs and resting his forearms on his knees.

Charlie didn't know what to say. She missed Ashley every second of every day and it hurt like hell... but Ashley wasn't her brother. He was just a very close friend.

But Kristin could relate on a more personal level, beyond how Charlie could.

The hallway was empty, and it felt so crushingly still and quiet. The silence that felt like it was a screaming, yawning void of painful empty. Some space that couldn't be filled, no matter how much was dumped into it.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

"Can I pet him? I know it says DO NOT TOUCH on his collar, but..." Kansas trailed off. She reached out a hand toward Morpheus.

Ren glanced down at him, and he lifted his head, as if sensing their attention. His grey eyes stared evenly at Ren, patiently waiting for a command.

"Ok," they said, then gave Morpheus a pointed look. "Release."

Kansas slid off the chair, dropping to her knees, and Morpheus took a few steps toward her before sitting down. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and then she just crumbled to pieces. Sobs wracked her body, and her fingers curled into his fur.

Charlie's nose burned at the sight, and her eyes stung with the first prickles of tears.

It reminded her of that day at the Moonfall Precinct, when they had all first found out why Ashley hadn't been responding. How Kristin had crumpled to the ground like a house of cards when he realized the person he was looking at was his brother. How it had taken him ages to be able to stand, to speak, to form any sort of thought.

It had crushed Charlie, and she didn't know what it had felt like for Kristin. She knew it was a different kind of pain— both hurt like hell, but family had a bond different from friendship.

At least, that's what Charlie had been told. Family and friends were the same to her— she had forgotten her parents the day she left.

Someone walked by, pausing when they heard Kansas's sobs, and Ferris waved them on, silently shaking his head. Everything's ok.

Kind of a lie— no, not everything was ok. But it wasn't something they'd be able to help with. Kansas just needed a moment to get it all out.

The group kept their places as a kind-of human shield around Kansas, giving her a little privacy, and eventually the hitches in her breaths slowed.

She rested her forehead against Morpheus's shoulder, before pulling back. Her eyes were red, and she wiped at them with the backs of her hands, before wrinkling her nose when Morpheus licked at her cheek.

"That tickles," she croaked with a weak laugh, but it brought a bit of light to her eyes. "But thanks."

Charlie glanced at Ren, who had narrowed their eyes. Morpheus wasn't supposed to have done that, but she didn't think Ren would say anything— meeting someone who's sister had been killed by the same trio who had killed a friend wasn't the time for scolding a dog for minor misbehavior.

"I'm sorry," Kansas said. The bags under her eyes only seemed to have grown darker.

"Don't be. I don't think I've slept for more than an hour at a time since Ashley died. If that." Kristin shook his head, chewing on his lip. "Want to though. Maybe some day I'll be able to sleep through the night, but that feels impossible."

"I don't think I've slept at all. If any of this," Kansas scoffed, gesturing to her whole body, "is any indication."

"Zip had to talk me into a shower before this. Said that no one wanted to do anything cuz we all just felt numb and like we were floating in a nightmare, but that it might help Ashley's case so we needed to clean up for the interview. Harsh, but it worked. I took a shower, even if I think it was more of standing under the water than actually bathing. Don't apologize for stuff— we get it, even if we might not know the exact way you're feeling."

"Sucks that we're in the same boat, but it's nice to not feel so alone."

"Exactly."

"Do you guys have Muse?" Kansas asked, pulling out her phone.

"We have a group page. NYTE, all caps, N-Y-T-E," Charlie replied.

They exchanged information, and personal Muse accounts were created or logged into. KansasMarch for Kansas, 8-Ball for Charlie, Hades101 for Zip, RedSneaker65 for Kristin, ToryFairy77 for Ferris, and SomMorPyx for Ren.

"I just created the group chat." Kansas smiled, face lightening some.

Charlie's phone dinged, and a Hello notification popped up on her lock screen from a KansasMarch, then with a hi reply from RedSneaker65.

Dealing with a friend's murder wasn't a boat she wanted to be in, but since she needed to, she wanted to have her friends with her so she wasn't so alone.

They could just chat, say little more than hey and know that they were thinking of each other, have that connection to those that would be able to understand.

Kansas's phone rang, and she said it was Ryzor Oberhofer and that she needed to go. They wished each other a quick goodbye before Kansas rushed off.

xxxx

The parking lot of Waverwell News was packed near the entrance, but soon emptied out to just a handful of cars scattered across the sprawling area.

A smattering of people rushed up to NYTE as they walked outside.

"It's you! I'm so sorry about Ashley! I wish we had more time. The interview got cut short!"

Kristin took a subtle step back when someone tried to hug him. "No, thank you," he said.

"Do you know who did it?"

"Ashley was murdered by the Trinity," Ferris replied, sticking with the pure facts and things that had already been released to the public.

"What can you tell me about the Silverlight Pack? What are the wolves' names again?" someone asked Charlie.

She was about to reply, when she looked up over their head and saw two people, one taller than the other and both dressed in mock fancy clothes, a knock-off brand cheaper than the luxury equivalent.

Her blood ran cold.

"I'm sorry, we're leaving," she bit out loudly.

Half of Charlie wanted to freeze, drop her gaze to the ground and tilt her head to the side. She wanted to just say yes because it was easier.

But the other half wanted to scream, and she knew she couldn't. Not with so many people around.

So she just gave her most withering glare and then turned her back and walked away.

There were better things to spend her energy on.

Like ignoring the way her heart fluttered and pounded in her chest like a bird trapped in a too-small cage.

xxxx

*Start of trigger warning section*

But by the time NYTE had driven back to the camp, Charlie was holding onto the very end of a quickly fraying thread.

As soon as Zip had brought the car to a smooth stop in the courtyard of the camp, she all but sprinted into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her.

Tears burned in Charlie's eyes as she gripped the edge of the sink and stared into the mirror. Ferris knocked on the bathroom door, but Charlie called him away, saying that she was fine and just needed some space.

Charlie gazed at the reflection in the mirror, taking in every detail. But her mind's eye kept flickering back to those two faces she saw in the parking lot.

She knew those faces. She knew them well. She had seen them every day of her life until she ran away.

And those faces roused the beast she had long put to sleep in the abyss of her mind. It reared its ugly head and spouted the torrent of emotions she had jammed down its throat. Memories oozed from its sloughing skin, each worse than the last. As Charlie's vision flickered between the real world and the images shown by the beast, she bared her teeth and paced.

"It was Beverley and Richmond," Charlie whimpered to her reflection, hating how she had been reduced to some sniffling thing, not the person who would walk straight through fire without blinking.

How was she supposed to prove them wrong when she was being exactly who they said she was?

Charlie was being Rose, not the person who wouldn't be anything Rose was.

She couldn't.

She couldn't be Rose.

It would mean betraying the promise she made to herself on the night she left that Beverley and Richmond would no longer have any hold over her. She would cut every string tying herself to them and be her own person and figure out, far later than she should have, who she was and what she liked, not what she felt she should like.

Rose Hendricks wasn't a real person. Rose Hendricks had never existed. Rose Hendricks couldn't be Charlie Springs. Couldn't have any effect on Charlie Springs, because Rose Hendricks was a figment of the imaginations of Beverley and Richmond Hendricks.

"I'm so sorry," Charlie whispered to her reflection, and the person in the mirror just stared back.

They didn't speak, and Charlie was grateful. She didn't want to explain what Beverley and Richmond had done. How much they had messed with Charlie's head. How they had made it so Charlie couldn't see her own worth as a person beyond her looks and the clothes she wore. Everything except who she was on the inside.

How long it had taken Charlie to realize that the reason she never recognized her reflection in the mirror was because the person staring back at her was that little kid who had been told she wasn't enough. That little kid who was trying so hard to win her parents' approval and be told that yes, she had done a good job. To get that validation Charlie now knew that little kid would never receive.

Because the person her parents wanted was someone who could never exist. Their little Rose had never been born.

Rose Hendricks did not exist.

Rose Hendricks was a fake person Charlie had impersonated out of fear. The reflection Charlie saw in the mirror had spent years living as Rose Hendricks, and it twisted her into knots until she couldn't tell which way was up or how to come back up for air. It had chipped away at her soul until she was holding only shattered pieces in her hands as blood dripped through her fingertips. It broke her down until she didn't know what was Rose and what was herself.

Charlie Springs was a star. A bright, brilliant star who could light up the sky. A personality so big and full of life and love and laughter that it couldn't be contained.

But there was safety in Rose Hendricks. Safety that Charlie Springs could not offer— Charlie Springs would be recognized. Charlie Springs would draw attention, and Rose Hendricks would not. Charlie Springs would puff out her chest like a peacock and dance across the stage, and Rose Hendricks would duck her head and sit quietly in the corner.

And so she turned herself down until the star was a space heater.

Until Charlie Springs didn't shine so bright and Rose Hendricks could take over.

Rose had become so embedded in her very being that she did not know how to separate Rose Hendricks from Charlie Springs.

What did she really like, and what did she just feel that she should like? What did she really want, and what did she just feel that she should want?

Everything had become so tangled up that she didn't know how to straighten it out and figure out who Charlie Springs was. Because she knew she was Charlie Springs, but she didn't know who Charlie Springs was.

"I'm so sorry," Charlie whispered to the reflection in the mirror. "I'm so sorry."

She traced her fingertips down the mirror and then placed her palm next to the reflection's face, watching how their palms lined up.

"Hey, there." A tear rolled down her cheek.

"I wish I could've told you then that you would never win Beverley and Richmond's approval," she choked out. "I wish I could've told you then that no matter how hard you tried to be their Rose, it would never be enough. Nothin' we did would ever make us Rose. The frilly dresses and pretty bows... those were just bandages. Costumes for us to play as someone else. We were tryna live in a skin that was just too small. What we did back then was survival. We might not have been in danger of physical injury, but it sure as hell stopped a lot of fights."

Charlie trailed off as memories washed over her, and she squeezed her eyes shut to force them to subside. She didn't want to see any of them. Not now, not with the raw memories of Ashley still trying to begin to stop bleeding quite so much.

It took time to build up a tolerance to the memories, to the pain. She had that for Beverley and Richmond, but not for Ashley.

She didn't need scabbed wounds peeling free.

She sank to the ground, pulling her knees to her chest and folding her arms atop, head on her elbows.

"Why'd you haf'ta do that to me?" Charlie ground out into the silence of the bathroom. The tile was cool beneath her, and she focused on the sensation to keep her from getting lost in the riptide of her spinning mind. "I was a kid. I didn't understand. I couldn't understand."

Her voice cracked.

"I was just a kid."

xxxx

"Charlie? You ok in there?" Ferris rapped his knuckles softly against the bathroom door.

"I'm fine." She stood up and faced the direction of Ferris.

"You want a hug or something?"

"No." Yes.

"It's ok to want things purely because you want them."

"I know," Charlie grumbled, forehead against the door.

She could sense Ferris leaning against the doorframe on the opposite side, waiting patiently, and she hated how well he knew her. But at the same time, she was happy he wasn't just taking her at face value. Accepting what she said when she knew so much of it was Rose speaking, not Charlie.

And so, after a moment, she let herself open the bathroom door and let Ferris step through, bringing her into a hug, movements slow enough that she could pull away. But she didn't.

She didn't want the comfort.

She didn't want his arms around her.

She didn't want to feel the way his fingers curled into her shirt or the way he tucked his nose into the curve of her neck.

She didn't want to know that he was getting comfort too, just for a different reason.

But Ferris's touch chased away the memories of hands snapping shut on her arms that took away her ability to escape. Cold words barked out that made her freeze and drop to the ground. Fingers digging into her flesh like claws. Limbs pinning her down when she tried to fight back.

When Charlie's sides shook with a trembling inhale, Ferris just held on tighter, not saying a word.

She clung to him, trying to hold on against the current of memories and emotions that she didn't know how to face down, stand head on and confront them. She knew Ferris was doing the same thing— try to hang on and work through Ashley's murder. After she had run away, Charlie had barely known how to deal with what Beverley and Richmond had done, much less now deal with a friend's murder and now the reawakened monster of her childhood memories of what should've been her parents.

"It'll be ok," Ferris whispered after a while. "I don't know what they did to you. I only know what you've told me, and I know that's only the surface. But we're all here. It'll be ok. It'll all be ok."

"Will it?" Charlie wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that the memories would subside. Wanted to believe that she would one day be able to see Beverley and Richmond and not have to remember all of the bad times.

"Yes."

Charlie took a breath. "Ok."

She rested her cheek against Ferris's shoulder. Later, she would probably laugh at the fact that they were hugging in the NYTE house's bathroom out of all places, but for now she just soaked in the comfort she could get from a tight hug.

It wasn't an Ashley hug, but it was enough.

Summary: Charlie saw her parents (Beverley and Richmond Hendricks) in the parking lot of Waverwell News. After returning home to the NYTE camp, she closed herself in the bathroom and remembered what her parents had done and how she had acted as Rose Hendricks, the person her parents wanted her to be and had named her as a baby, and how it had greatly affected her mental state and how she didn't know how to deal with it

Later, Ferris knocked on the bathroom door to check on her and they hugged. Ferris told her that while he didn't know everything her parents had done, only what she had told him, that all of NYTE was there for her and that it would be ok, she wasn't alone.

Welp... this is the longest chapter I've ever written, at a whopping 11k words. First time I've felt the need to split a chapter in two as well (and first time I've done so)! Quite the monster of a chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it! Please comment and consider a favorite/follow if you liked it!

What will come of the interview?

What about that slip-up Charlie made where she named the disease, despite not knowing whether or not Arkreon is the culprit or if the two are even related? The whistleblower's claims are still just claims- there's nothing that confirms or denies their validity

What did you think of Kansas?

Poor Charlie... she's had quite the day. Seeing her parents certainly didn't help. Seems like Ferris was able to help her calm down some. Can't give an Ashley hug, but it seems his was enough

What do you think of Beverley and Richmond?

I hope you have a great weekend!

-Werewolf14- :)