Chapter 15
KRISTIN BAOK
Kristin Baok had somehow managed to sleep last night and feel that maybe he had actually gotten some rest.
He longed for a good night's sleep, but he had no idea if that would ever come. He had made his peace with the fact that maybe it never would. Maybe he would never be able to sleep soundly through the night.
But last night, he felt as though his body had gotten the chance to recharge for once, but he was still drained. His eyelids still wanted to close, even though he knew Dreamland would never arrive to claim him once more.
Sunlight shone through the cracks in the blinds, and Kristin stretched, rubbing at a knot in his shoulder.
He pulled his blankets up to his chin, hugging them around himself in something echoing an embrace. Warmth like Ashley gave, but lacking in that aspect that just couldn't be pinned down. That little something that made the difference of human. That thing that was the difference between a hug from blankets and a hug from Ashley— there was something that just couldn't be replicated.
And it made Kristin's heart break all the more.
He shoved his sheets off like they were live rattlesnakes, and he bit his lip until his eyes stopped burning with unshed tears, until he could breathe without a quiver in his throat.
Maybe someday, Kristin told himself. Maybe someday I'll be able to hug someone and not think only of Ashley.
Robotically, he changed his clothes, grabbing whatever was closest and tugging it on without care.
Exhaustion hung around him, pulling at his skin and eyelids and making it feel like he was stumbling through a fog. He needed sleep, but how was he supposed to sleep when his brother would never wake? How was he supposed to sleep when his dreams were haunted by images of his brother's body and thoughts of what he might have gone through in those last moments?
We'll find out, Kristin reminded himself. We will find out what happened to you, Ashley. We will get answers.
xxxx
"Hey, Charlie," Kristin said as he walked out of his room and into the kitchen.
She was seated at the table, if that's what it would be called. Her head lay pillowed on a folded arm, fingers knotted in her hair. And she stared at a spoon she twirled in a bowl of long-since soggy cereal, gaze blank and distant.
The only acknowledgement he got from her was a low grunt.
"How are you doing?" he tentatively asked, gently walking around the subject of the Waverwell News interview.
"Fine." The word was barely audible and rough enough that Kristin guessed Charlie hadn't slept.
"You need anything?"
"No." Charlie scooped up some of her cereal, then watched it fall back into the bowl with wet plops when she tipped her spoon upside down.
Kristin paused, wanting to say more but not knowing what.
He made himself his own bowl of cereal. It was the only thing he felt he might be able to choke down. Food still made his stomach twist and churn, and nothing had tasted edible since he had learned of his brother's murder.
But his body needed nourishment, and so he would force himself to find something. Anything was nutrients; he just needed to get it down.
Kristin sat across from Charlie. They were both quiet for several minutes. The only sounds were those from Ren running drills with the dogs and Zip screwing something together in his workshop— Kristin could hear power tools clanging from across the courtyard.
"I don't feel like me," Charlie eventually grumbled, voice muffled by her arm. Her knuckles were white as she gripped her spoon and stirred it, huffing in frustration when cereal and milk splattered up over the edge and onto the table. She threw her spoon down and groaned, curling her lip. "I feel like that little kid me who just wanted her parents' approval. I don't feel like someone old enough to be able to disappear and not have the search parties brought out. 'Course my parents did search. Kind of. They sent those letters. But I don't feel like an adult, even though I am and can disappear without people searching. Sure, I am an adult physically, but mentally? I'm just that little kid who's wondering how the hell my body got so big. Feels like I'm still trapped as that kid who didn't know why her parents would never tell her that she did a good job."
Charlie laughed in a self-deprecating way. "Beverley and Richmond sure messed me up good, didn't they?"
She rolled her eyes before continuing: "I want an apology. Ain't gonna hold my breath though. Even little kid me knows no way that's happenin'."
Kristin chewed on his lip. He wanted to reply, but he didn't want to say the wrong thing and make it worse for her. He knew she hated her parents, but Kristin had never had any. Sure, he knew there were two people responsible for his creation in one form or another— something could never come from nothing. But he had no recollection of anyone who ever filled that role of parent.
He couldn't relate. Not in the slightest.
Ashley was the closest thing he had to a parent, and he knew he was the closest thing Ashley had as a parent as well.
His heart twisted, and he swallowed against the rising tidal wave of pain and grief. Tears prickled in his eyes, and he forced them back. Not now.
Charlie offered a sad smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Sorry, I'm just ramblin', aren't I? S'pose all I can really do now is find some way to live for both of us. And entertain that kid with the joy she never got cuz so much of her childhood was spent walkin' around on eggshells and wondering if the next words out of her mouth would be the ones that led to the next fight. You know me— I got no filter. If I think it, it's probably getting said. Impulse control is hardly something I've got. Just angry right now, I guess. Why'd they come there? I ran away and made no attempt to contact them. If that's not don't talk to me, I don't want to see you then what is?"
"I don't know," Kristin whispered.
And it was the truth— he wasn't sure what could tell Charlie's parents that she didn't want to speak to them if running away and never contacting them didn't get the message across. From the tiny bit he knew about their relationship and Charlie's reaction to seeing them in the parking lot of Waverwell News, he knew she had some good reasons for not wanting any sort of interaction with them.
Kristin had hardly had a chance to see who Charlie was looking at in the parking lot before she had rushed off, telling those who wanted to ask questions that the SFPU was leaving and leaving no room for debate when she had stalked away, sending a chilling glare at the people he had later realized were her parents.
"What are we gonna do without Ashley? Things were fine before," Charlie mumbled into her arm. "Maybe they weren't really fine. Something made someone do-. Do... do that. Kill Ashley. But things felt fine. We were just one big, happy family."
Kristin shook his head, stirring his cereal. He made himself take a bite, and it still tasted like cardboard. "I don't know."
It was the only answer he could give. He didn't know what they'd do.
"I guess just keep looking. Keep trying to find answers, because there's someone out there who knows something. We just need to find them. We just need to find that person who has the key to throwing the whole case wide open."
"I miss Ashley." Charlie's face was scrunched up in the crook of her arm. She watched milk drip off of her spoon and into the bowl.
Kristin watched it too. Each droplet of white falling, another second that had ticked by that he didn't have his brother. Another second that he didn't know why his brother was taken from him. Another second that was spent without his brother by his side when they had never been apart. Another second in the longest period of time he hadn't been beside Ashley.
"I miss him too." Kristin held onto his spoon in a crushing grip like it was the only thing keeping him from getting caught up in the tidal wave of grief and sadness. And maybe it was. He had managed to get his legs beneath him, but he felt like a deer on ice, just a half second from collapsing yet again.
"I want him back," he continued, and the words just poured from his mouth like a bag of marbles turned upside down. "I don't know why it was him and not me. I don't know what was so different about him that it had to be him who was taken and not me. We told each other everything, but I know he didn't tell me stuff so clearly there was something. I know he kept things from me. I mean, I never knew about his journal. I just feel like I'm missing one little piece and maybe then I'll have answers. But I also know that nothing can ever make it right. Knowing why will never make it better. I'll never get to hug him again, never get to hear his laugh again. Am I just going to be stuck with this gaping hole in my chest for the rest of my life? How am I supposed to deal with that? Is all I'm ever going to have of Ashley just memories to replay in my head over and over? Pictures I'm supposed to look at until they begin to fade? That furry little mouse he got for me on one of those first supply runs cuz he was just so excited to get gifts for everyone. Am I just supposed to hold that for the rest of my life like some wannabe replacement for my brother?"
And then the tears came, streaming down his cheeks in hot, salty trails.
"I'm sorry," Charlie whispered.
"What happened to him?"
The ache in Kristin's chest was a yawning void, all jagged edges and sharp angles, ripped apart like split stitches and shattered into pieces too small to fit back together in the original way. How he could ever rebuild, Kristin didn't know, but he knew there had to be some way.
It couldn't hurt like this forever.
Right?
The pain was so strong, a riptide he got pulled out to sea by.
"We will find out what happened to Ashley, Kristin, I promise. I don't know how and it might take a while, but we will. I ain't gonna give up, not ever." Charlie pushed her bowl of cereal away from her and stood up, and Kristin watched as she walked around the table until she stood beside him. There was a moment of hesitation, wheels turning in her eyes, and then she opened her arms, a clear invitation for a hug.
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Kristin paused, thinking for a handful of seconds, before falling into Charlie's embrace, leaning over in his chair. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and his clung around her waist. Ear against her stomach, Kristin could hear her shaky breaths and her attempts to calm down. He could feel how his own sides shook with each inhale and how every exhale caught in his throat.
Please, Ashley. I want you back. I need you, Ashley. Please. Why were you taken from me?
xxxx
Zip lurked in the doorway of Kristin's room.
He didn't make any attempts to move, and instead shifted in place, starting to take a step forward but then retreating back the same distance. After watching him repeat the action several times out of the corner of his eye, Kristin hummed and leaned back in his chair.
"What is it, Zip?" Kristin kept his voice neutral.
Zip breathed an obvious sigh of relief. "I... was looking," he said.
"What were you looking at?" Kristin spun a quarter circle to fully face Zip.
"That-that book. One of S-Spider Ridge s-s-stuff." Zip paused, drumming his fingers on the doorframe and rocking on his feet. "Li-like, Arkreon's from th-there... and... the records... they aren't-. They aren't complete."
"Aren't complete?"
"Yeah, not com... complete. Like, en-entirely. Most of the stuff was-. It was there, but the... the documentation. Like of what was-was brought out wasn't... wasn't done right. Dates wr-wrong, measurements not right."
"What do you mean by that?"
Zip tilted his head to the side. He rubbed his fingertip across a dent on the wall as he processed the question.
"The-the weights of... stuff. Like, the mines keep r-records of everything. And-and they say weights of rock br-. The rock brought out and how much was what they were... they were mining for. The weights weren't right."
"Was it Arkreon?"
"Yeah." Zip nodded his head. "But not-. Wasn't just that. Coal, too. Minerals. V-v-very little was r-right for everything."
Kristin leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out. The carpet was soft beneath his feet. Nothing about that made sense— record keeping was busy work. Very little thought was required, since it was just putting numbers that could not lie into a spreadsheet.
"And you're sure the weights and records truly cannot be right? I'm not questioning you, I just want to be certain."
Zip scratched at a piece of peeling paint on the doorframe. "Yeah," he murmured, examining a flake of paint he held between his fingers. "The records aren't... aren't right. And it... it had s-s-stuff on-on the... the disease. Like the... the... the s-symptoms. R-rash, trouble b-breathing, coughing, s-seizures, stuff like-like that."
"What the hell?" It was the only thing Kristin could say. Nothing made sense. And while he didn't doubt Zip, he had no idea what to make of the incomplete records.
"I don't know," Zip replied. His voice was soft, tired. "Wish I... wish I did. Doesn't make any-any sense."
"Could you..." Kristin trailed off, unsure of what he was really trying to ask. "Could you keep digging?"
"Yeah." Zip nodded. "Wasn't... gonna stop."
"Thank you."
Zip silently slipped away, and Kristin turned back to his desk.
He exhaled shakily and rubbed his hands over his face. His brain felt like it was going to explode from the exhaustion, the pain, the grief, the hurricane of information that was simultaneously too much and too little.
It was more than he ever wanted to know, but it wasn't enough to get answers.
Why does that feel like it's too much to ask? Kristin thought, begging whoever might be listening for some response.
I just want to know what happened to my brother.
I just want to know why he was taken from me.
A tear rolled down his cheek. Please, Ashley. I want you back.
xxxx
Kristin held Ashley's journal in his hands, elbows on the kitchen table.
Larson Hotch still didn't know about the existence of the journal. Neither did Asa or Azrael Smith.
But he knew they probably should. It was something Ashley himself had written. It told the story of an important part of his life from his own perspective. It was as close to talking to Ashley as anyone would ever be able to get.
Kristin figured was probably something within it that would give context for things, perhaps offer clues.
But I can't let him go, Kristin thought.
He didn't want to give up such an intimate part of his brother. It was the closest thing he had left of Ashley, the closest he could get to his brother without having his brother here with him again. He couldn't give it up.
And who knew if he would ever get it back? Who knew how long Ashley's journal might lay tucked away, locked up in some evidence room in the back of the Moonfall Precinct. Who knew who might touch it, what might be taken, if it would stay in one piece.
Kristin ran his fingers over the cover, felt the raised edges and the grooves in it.
He wanted to give Ashley's journal to the Moonfall Precinct in hopes that it might offer some breakthrough, but the thought of parting with one of the last pieces left of his brother made his heart twist in his chest. Every entry was written by hand, typos, scribbled out words, and all. And sometimes it spoke directly to Kristin, some small comfort that his brother could talk to him, even from the grave.
"Does the Moonfall Precinct need this?" Kristin asked as he sat at the kitchen table.
Charlie looked up at him from the couch, mouth full with a bite from her lettuce wrap. She cradled it in her hands, the only thing keeping it from falling apart, and hummed in reply, holding the wrap up in a gesture of just a moment.
After she swallowed, she frowned. "I completely forgot what we were talking about. Sorry." She offered a sheepish smile, but then her expression softened when she saw his own expression. Something somewhere between pained and unsure and a little guilty.
Shouldn't he have given the journal to the Moonfall Precinct the second he realized what it was? He probably shouldn't have touched it so much, wrapped his arms around it in a hug when the pain of losing Ashley got to be too much. Held it to his chest as he fell asleep because it was the only thing that would let him relax enough to doze off, even for just a little while.
Kristin held up Ashley's journal. "Does the Moonfall Precinct need this?"
"I mean, completely truthful, blunt, honest answer... yeah, yeah, they do."
He knew she was right, but hearing it out loud didn't make it any better or easier to hear.
"Hey, hey, hey." Charlie waved her hand at Kristin and snapped her fingers several times in close succession, jerking his attention to her before he could get lost in his head. "Don't go off feeling all guilty now, 'kay?"
"I should've given this to them as soon as I knew it was his journal."
She slid off her seat and crossed into the living area to sit beside him on the couch. Her gaze was all seriousness, none of the humor it usually held. "Yeah, but we had no idea what was in it when they came that day. This whole mess is no one's fault but the Trinity's. They could've easily decided to be decent human beings, but they didn't. This is only their fault. They're the monsters. You're someone in a situation that's terrible beyond words. None of this is your fault, you hear me? It's not your fault."
"Maybe this will help get answers."
"It could, I don't know. But don't go feelin' all guilty over something that doesn't need guilt. We've already got enough emotions going on. Don't need any more. But do you want to give it to them? I can go with you if you'd like company. Ain't got nothin' for the rest of the day. Was planning on hunting around on Muse for any new stuff that might say why the Trinity went after Ashley, but I'm here if you need me."
"Yes." Kristin sighed. "No."
Charlie narrowed her eyes but didn't push.
"I don't know."
She hummed in a noncommittal sort of way— neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
"I want to give it to them, but I don't want to lose this piece of him. He wrote it all, and some of it was written to me. I can't give it up. But I know they need it, even though they don't know it exists. They'll be thrilled to have something like this that was written by Ashley and goes into his thoughts and events that happened. It's basically a timeline of the last year of his life. And some of the stuff sure does seem suspicious. That snakes and sirens part? The part about and then it will all be nyte? He's clearly talking about something. But how do I let him go? How do I give this piece of him to Larson? How do I give it up when I know I might never get it back?"
Charlie chewed on her lip, and Kristin knew she was trying to figure out the right words to say. He hated that, hated that she was trying to find some way to be truthful but likely tell him, on some level, what he wanted to hear. Find some way to make him more comfortable with the idea of giving Ashley's journal to the Moonfall Precinct.
And she was quiet for several long moments.
"I don't know," she finally said. "I really don't know. I wouldn't want to give up the journal if I was in your situation. I don't really even want to now. That's Ashley's journal, the original Pockets of Gold and Silver. The one he wrote by hand, not the one he published under Caspian Lyon's name. But all I can really say, I guess, is that Larson's gonna take good care of it. Don't need to know him well to feel good about saying that. No way he's gonna be throwing evidence like that around. I mean, something written by —and I hate calling him this so much— the murder victim? No way that's getting tossed into some corner. He'll take good care of it. S'pose we could ask them about gettin' it back for sure. Like, they're not gonna hang on to it forever... hopefully... but I got no idea about that. Who really knows how all of the law enforcement stuff works."
Tears prickled in Kristin's eyes. He sucked on his teeth as he stared down at Ashley's journal. "I should probably give this to them," he ground out. "I don't want to lose Ashley, but they need it. Can we take pictures of it all?"
"Sure, I can go get Zip right now. Bet he could make a 3-D model of it if you asked him to. Especially if it came from you."
Kristin flinched, and Charlie sighed, hunching over with her head in her hands. She groaned into her palms with a frustrated huff.
"Sorry," she grumbled, "my bad. Not the time for teasing. My head's all messed up and I know that's no excuse."
"It's fine." Kristin leaned forward, forearms on his knees and Ashley's journal in his hands. "They need it. The Moonfall Precinct needs this. It will help them, cuz the Trinity needs to be caught. They're monsters who do not deserve to be walking free any longer. They lost that right the second they committed their first murder."
He knew it was all true, and he believed it. Larson Hotch, Asa Smith, Azrael Smith, and everyone else working on Ashley's case all would benefit from having the journal. And he knew those working on Alaska Wendell March's case would benefit from the journal, too.
But some part of him bucked and resisted against the idea of losing the journal. Tugged back like a horse rearing against its lead.
Not losing, he whispered to that part. We're giving it to the right people. It's the right decision. It's what needs to be done so Ashley's killers can be caught. Alaska's too, and who knows what other people who, right now, might just be listed as missing.
"Ok," he said, voice hoarse. "Let's do it."
Charlie lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
"Where are the keys?" Kristin pushed himself off the couch, robotically walking toward the front door.
"Oh, like right now?" Charlie followed after him.
"Yeah, if we don't go right now we're not going. One shot to get Ashley's journal to the Moonfall Precinct. I don't think I'll be able to part from it if we don't do this now."
"Ok. Lemme just get my shoes. Can't drive barefoot. That just sounds like a bad idea." Charlie slipped away through the living area and vanished into her room.
xxxx
Kristin's legs were lead weights as he stood in the doorway of the NYTE house, the same one Ashley had once walked through, never to come back.
He took a deep breath to calm the rising panic in his chest. His knuckles were white around his brother's journal, and Kristin wasn't sure how he was going to make it to the car Charlie had parked, passenger door open right at the edge of the courtyard, as close as possible to the house.
If he couldn't make it to the car, Kristin asked himself, how was he supposed to make it to the Moonfall Precinct?
Charlie gave a small smile from where she stood leaning against the hood of the car, arms crossed her chest.
"I don't really know what to say, Kristin." She shrugged. "Like, on the one hand, yeah, they'll probably be thrilled to have Ashley's journal so they can look over every grain of dust on the pages and pour over every word within it. But like, you look like you're about to pass out. You good?"
Kristin didn't know. All he could do was shrug and bring his brother's journal in for a hug, soaking in the comfort it brought.
"No one's forcin' you to do anything if you don't wanna." Charlie's face was scrunched up in unease, and Kristin knew she wanted him to bring Ashley's journal to the Moonfall Precinct but wasn't going to make him.
He couldn't help but wonder how long they had felt that way. If they had felt like that since the beginning. How the investigation into Ashley's murder might have gone if they had told the Moonfall Precinct about the journal during that first search of the camp.
Kristin knew it wasn't his fault. He hadn't been the one to take his brother's life so cruelly and callously.
But guilt still gnawed at his insides.
What if there was some way he could've known? What if there was some small tell Ashley had that something hadn't been right? What if Kristin had missed some silent plea for help? What if he had turned his back in his brother's most desperate time of need?
The what ifs were a sneaker wave that threatened to suck him into the silent, shadowy depths of despair. Pull him into the clutches of some smothering beast that would never let him go. Drag him beyond reality until he couldn't escape.
But Kristin had to stay here. Stay in the real world. Ashley needed him.
Kristin couldn't save his brother. He wasn't able to keep Ashley in the land of the living. And there wasn't much he could do for him.
But he could still do this.
He could bring Ashley's journal to the Moonfall Precinct in hopes that perhaps information could be gleaned and clues could be found.
It was the least he could do for his brother.
It was one of the only things Kristin could still do for Ashley— he could help solve his brother's murder.
And so, with Ashley's journal held snug in his embrace, Kristin slid into the passenger seat and gave Charlie the ok to start driving to the Moonfall Precinct. She shifted the car into gear and piloted her way out of the courtyard and into Silverlight Forest.