TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of how to lay someone to rest, interactions with a cremated body, laying someone to rest, heavy grief/a bit of guilt

Grief/some guilt throughout the whole chapter, as Kristin is still dealing with Ashley's death

I will put beginning/end markers for when the SFPU is discussing how to lay Ashley to rest/interacting with his cremated body and add a summary at the end if you wish to skip over that part

Chapter 20

KRISTIN BAOK

Kristin's body was numb. Shock coursed through his veins, pushed along by his pounding heart that threatened to burst through his chest. Blood roared in his ears.

It was as if the ground had given way beneath his feet and left him free-falling through the air, careening through space and time without any familiarity to hold on to.

Ashley knew about the claims the whistleblower made, he thought, and it was on repeat in his mind, the only thing his scrambled mind could piece together that was even remotely coherent.

How could Ashley have known? And if he had known, why didn't he tell anyone? Kristin's heart clenched in his chest. He and Ashley told each other everything. They were brothers. Twins. They shared a bond deeper than anything. So why hadn't he told anyone what he knew?

"Ashley knew about the claims the whistleblower made?" Ferris echoed Kristin's statement, low voice rumbling in thought.

Kristin choked on his next inhale, tears stinging in his eyes. He could only manage a nod in reply.

Why'd you have to go, Ashley? Why?

He curled his fingers into fists, and he jumped when he felt nothing other than skin in his grip. Kristin blinked a few times, and his vision returned, morphing from the memories and flickering images of Ashley back into the SFPU house. Him standing by the kitchen, sunlight streaming through the window, the rest of the group at the table.

Zip lifted Ashley's journal from the table, feather-light fingers holding it up. "Here," he murmured. Relief bloomed in Kristin's chest.

"When?" Charlie asked, chewing on a fingernail. "When did Ashley know?"

Kristin's gaze fell to the ground, shoulders slumping. "I-I... I don't know. He di-didn't put dates, only the day of the week."

"I can... I can create an approximate timeline on my-on my laptop," Zip said. "Won't be exact if there are... repeating days a-and no clue as to i-if they're the-the same day or one week later... but it would be a-a-a guess."

Kristin ducked his head. "Thanks."

Zip murmured a soft reply, then slipped out of his chair, footsteps pattering in near silence as he disappeared into his room.

A pang of grief sliced through Kristin's chest, leaving tattered ribbons of flesh in its wake. The pain consumed him, tearing through his insides and mangling his guts. Jagged claws seized his throat, squeezing ever tighter until he felt he might choke. If this was what it felt like living without Ashley for just a few days, how was he supposed to live a lifetime without his brother?

What he wouldn't do for just one more day with Ashley. Just an hour. A few minutes. The chance to say goodbye while Ashley was still alive. While Ashley could respond.

President Corville had offered Ashley the ceremony and burial given to the highest members of Waverwell government.

But Kristin hadn't yet been able to reply. He and Ashley hadn't ever talked about what they'd want when they died. In Cat's Cradle, it didn't matter when they died; no one would know except for the other. There was no one would remember them except for the other. Death was something both had known about but never brought up. Survival was their biggest concern. Pickpocketing, stealing, hustling, sharking, cheating got them by. A clever, deceitful conversation by one while the other snuck around. A well-versed act, honed by time and practice and aided by adrenaline and the need for food, supplies, money. When they could, they did honest work. Washing dishes at local eateries, stocking shelves at the nearby corner store, whoever was hiring, didn't ask questions, needed no formal education or training, and had no requirement other than alive and breathing. When they were able to, they paid in full with real money. Actual Corvilles, not look-alikes or one real Corville wrapped around a roll of blank rectangles of paper.

Kristin knew Ashley hadn't written out a will or any sort of requests for what to do with his body when he died and that because of that, it fell on him to decide what would happen with his brother.

The thought of anything regarding Ashley —especially anything about laying him to rest— felt like a shot to the gut. It was too much for his frazzled mind.

He hoped President Corville would be understanding that he couldn't yet respond. Couldn't yet think if Ashley would have wanted the ceremony she had offered.

Perhaps Ashley has another secret journal with what he'd like done with his body, Kristin thought. It was selfish, he knew that, but it would take the decision away from him. He wouldn't have to make the choice that would make his brother's death so much more final.

Kristin sank to the floor, choking on his breath. He let out a wet sob and buried his face in his hands. The ground was hard, cold beneath his knees.

Charlie knelt beside him, Ren and Ferris following close behind. "What can I do, Kristin?" she asked, hand coming into his field of vision before retreating. She wouldn't touch him without permission and she knew he'd say no.

That asking before touching had been something he and Ashley had been so confused about when they first joined the SFPU. It was among the first things they'd talked about in their stolen minutes together in one of their rooms when they needed time alone. Needed a bit of the normalcy they'd known in the streets of Cat's Cradle, where no one would come looking for them and all they had was the other. Ashley had made a scene, and Kristin knew he just needed to talk through whatever was on his mind. He'd sat down on the edge of Ashley's bed and watched as his brother paced around stacks of books waiting to be put away on shelves, murmuring in a thought process Kristin couldn't begin to understand. Eventually, Ashley slowed to a stop, hands in his pockets and eyes narrowed and staring out the window, and he chewed on his lip for several moments before turning to Kristin.

"They ever ask you if they can, like, touch you?" Ashley had asked the question in his pensive drawl, a distant air to his voice that made him sound a thousand years old. The complete opposite to his laid-back personality that echoed Charlie's.

Kristin had nodded, and Ashley had hummed, quiet for a long pause. "Never would've happened in Cat's Cradle."

"No, it wouldn't have," Kristin had agreed.

"It's weird," he'd chuckled, exhaling sharply as he returned to pacing. "S'pose it makes sense, though. Person's own body. Can do with it what they'd like. No touch without my say so."

Kristin had bent over, elbows on his knees and hands cradling his cheeks. "Yeah," he'd replied, "it does make sense, I guess."

Ashley was silent for a long moment, facing away from Kristin in a move that took months for him to do with the rest of the SFPU. Cardinal rule of survival: never show your back. Trust was earned. Ashley had toed at the cover of a book. Kristin didn't have to see his face to know that he was frowning.

But then Ashley had turned around, clapping his hands. "Research," he'd said, falling back into his usual rhythm. "I must do research. There's something about this and I've got no clue what it is that's got my mind stuck on it, so I'm going to research it until whatever's stuck gets unstuck. Now, where did that journal go? It's got the supply run shopping list in it. My laptop, too. I need to hunt down books. Don't know what books I'm looking for, but I'm sure Muse has millions of recommendation lists so I'll find them. You need anything? Supply run's tomorrow."

It was so Ashley. Absolutely, positively, without a doubt him. Whenever there was a problem or something that piqued his interest or, in his words, his mind got stuck on, Ashley would research it. Find as many books as he needed, search through countless websites, read article after article, wade through Muse until he could work out whatever had been bothering him. It was why he could get close to any job and was nearly impossible to cheat out of something: he knew a little about almost everything.

Kristin's heart clenched, and he hunched over further, a low whine slipping from his throat.

He fell back into reality, leaving the memory behind and returning to the living room. Arms wrapped around his middle like iron bands, he tried to calm down. Quiet the racing thoughts barreling through his head without any real aim and in twists and turns he couldn't follow.

"What can we do?" Ferris echoed Charlie's question.

"How can this be real? I can't function. I can't do anything. I just want him back. I want my brother," he pleaded. His cheeks were slick when he wiped at his face.

If only he could get himself to stop crying.

Ren sniffled behind him, and Ferris exhaled slowly. Charlie huffed.

"I wish with all my heart I could tell you this was just a dream —nightmare— and wake you up," Ferris murmured. "I wish I could tell you the pain would someday be gone." The droop in his shoulders and the sag of his head were nearly audible in his voice; Kristin didn't have to look up to know the approximation of Ferris's posture. Everyone's posture, he thought to himself.

How long until he could close his eyes without seeing Ashley's face? How long until he could look around without seeing Ashley in the corners of his vision? In the shadows on the walls? In everyday objects he never used to look twice at?

How long until the pain wouldn't dig quite so deep? Until memories of Ashley wouldn't tear open his heart? Until the thought of Ashley wouldn't leave him plummeting through the abyss of grief?

Kristin didn't know.

xxxx

Zip returned a while later, standing at the edge of the threshold to the living room with his shoulders drawn in tight. Kristin had forgotten he had left. Guilt curled in his gut, but he shoved it away.

In his hands, Zip cradled his laptop. A bulky thing that was so much bigger than Ashley's thin, sleek computer. But the upside was that it had always been able to do far more than Ashley's had, not that it mattered to him— Ashley hadn't wanted, nor needed— his laptop to run massive, complex strings of code, carry signals between robots, or autonomously analyze the streams of footage sent in by the Camera Traps and flag anything suspicious, as he'd said many times when Zip had offered to switch out some computer parts for bigger, faster, and better ones. Most of what Ashley did on his computer was perusing through Muse and tracking down whatever store held the next book on his endless to-be-read list or figuring out where he could purchase the random items on the supply run shopping list, though in his comments to Kristin, it seemed that it often started with seeing if the item was even available to be purchased. Where it could be purchased came second.

Kristin forced himself to stay at least somewhat sitting. Remain on the ground, not bolt like every cell in his body told him to. Run. Sprint. Dash. Perhaps if he got far enough away, he could escape the hopelessness coursing through every vein. Maybe there was somewhere it wouldn't hurt so much. Maybe there was somewhere he could still be with Ashley. Somewhere Ashley was still alive, he just had to run far enough.

But Kristin knew that wasn't the case. He knew that wasn't possible. But he still clung to the fraying thread of hope that maybe this was just some horrible nightmare. The most vivid, lifelike nightmare. He couldn't let go. When he did, he would have to embrace in whatever fashion he could that Ashley's death —murder— wasn't a nightmare, that it was true. It was real.

But how could he even begin to do that?

Fingers clenched in bloodless fists, Kristin tried to hold himself together. To slow the dripping tears rolling down his face. To quell the quiver in his lip. To ease the tremble in his limbs.

What use would crying provide? No amount of tears could ever bring back Ashley. They wouldn't coalesce in a puddle on the ground and then morph into his brother. Why was Kristin able to cry when Ashley wouldn't ever shed another tear?

"What is it?" Ren asked when Zip shifted on his feet, glancing at the rest of the group but not saying anything. Returning his attention to his laptop to look at whatever was pulled up, then looking back. Ren turned on their knees to face Zip a little more fully. Charlie perked up, looking at Zip, while Ferris kept his soft gaze on Kristin.

Kristin simultaneously hated the attention and was grateful for it. He didn't mind attention, but it needed to be on his terms. He needed an out, if he chose it. A way to get the attention to stop. If he asked, Kristin knew he'd be able to leave, to be alone, even if he didn't ask and just up and left. But the attention wouldn't really stop. The SFPU would still be there, pained and sympathetic looks still following him. Tears still rolling down cheeks and sniffles still muffled by sleeves and tissues.

Zip stared off to the side, eyes flickering around the far wall of the room as he processed Ren's words. He replied a few moments later: "I..." he trailed off, working over what he wanted to say. "I got an email f-from Lar-Larson Hotch. He... he said Moonfall Precinct's gonna take-take over hunting offenders here. We take... as long as we need."

Leaning back on her hands, Charlie hummed and stretched out her legs. Only the tightness in her expression and the tension in her muscles gave away that her laid-back posture was a charade. A mask with the tiniest chink in the armor, the slightest tell for someone who knew where to look. "So they'll take care of the criminals while we figure things out here?"

Zip nodded.

"Great," Charlie replied. "You got whatever timeline-creating thing you have pulled up on your laptop?"

Zip nodded again.

Ferris stood up on his knees, reaching out to pull Ashley's journal from the table before sitting back down. He held the journal gingerly in his hands.

Kristin furrowed his eyebrows when Ferris looked at him.

To clarify, Ferris said, "Would you like to be the one to read the days from Ashley's journal entries, or would you like one of us to do so? The decision is yours, and I don't want to presume anything."

It gave Kristin some level of relief, a weight lifted off his shoulders. The SFPU would respect Ashley and himself —not that Kristin had any doubts about that— and they wouldn't force him to do anything. They knew Ashley, but Kristin was his brother and had known him for far longer and knew him far better, and they acknowledged that.

But knowing that his friends would defer to him for any and all decisions regarding Ashley unless explicitly told otherwise gave Kristin a measure of anxiety and stress. Ashley could no longer speak for himself, and so it would be Kristin deciding for him. It would be Kristin's decision on everything related to Ashley. And he couldn't help but worry that he would make the wrong choice. That it would be something Ashley wouldn't have liked. That he would offend his brother in some way.

Kristin could hardly think. Hardly string more than the simplest of coherent thoughts. Hardly process more than a few short words at a time. Hardly hold any thought for more than a few seconds.

"You, please," Kristin murmured. He scooted across the floor until his back was against one of the chairs at the kitchen counter. With the distance between him and the rest of the group, it felt a little easier to breathe, like there was a little more air he could drink in. He crossed his arms over his knees and rested his chin on his forearms. A tear rolled down his cheek, and he wiped it away in an angry movement, hissing a shaky breath between clenched teeth.

"Ok," Ferris replied softly, ducking his head. He opened Ashley's journal, gently resting the cover on his wrist and turning each page until he reached the first entry. He turned to Zip, who had set his laptop down on the table and was clicking around on it. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. Read them one by one?"

"Yeah." Zip didn't look up. His fingers were still on the keyboard as he waited for Ferris to start reading.

"The first one is a Thursday."

Zip typed it into the program he had pulled up then waited silently.

The silence stretched for close to the better part of a minute. Eventually, Kristin realized Zip wouldn't say anything; he didn't know that Ferris was waiting to be told that he was ready for the next day. Zip himself was waiting for the next day and had probably assumed that Ferris would just go onto to it when he was ready.

Mishaps in communication were relatively common— everyone in the SFPU each had different ways to communicate and what was considered obvious in a certain situation could differ greatly.

Charlie echoed what Kristin had been thinking. "Keep readin', Dipper," she murmured, scratching at a fingernail. "Zip's ready for the next one. Just keep readin' after, like, a few seconds' pause. 'nless you're told otherwise, though." Ferris looked between her and Zip, back and again several times, then complied.

Flipping to the next page in Ashley's journal, Ferris cleared his throat and then continued going through the days.

Friday.

Sunday.

Saturday.

Monday.

Thursday.

Friday.

Saturday.

Tuesday.

The list went on. Days and days and days. A stream that seemed to last forever. A year's worth of journal entries, spaced out at random and written whenever Ashley had felt the desire to scrawl them out across the pages and had the time.

Ferris's low voice remained even throughout, never straying from the calm tone Kristin had never heard him speak without.

The only other sound in the room was Zip's fingers tapping away at his keyboard, background noise for Ferris as he read the days from Ashley's journal.

Kristin watched the two of them from behind his crossed arms. His eyes flickered between each of them, back and forth and back and forth like a game of ping-pong.

Finally, Ferris reached the last few days.

"Sunday," he said, pausing for a moment, then continuing once Zip's typing had stopped. "Tuesday. Sunday. Monday. Huh, that's odd. The last one isn't dated. All of the others are." Ferris flipped through pages, then returned to the last page.

"Ashley didn't write a day for the last entry?" Charlie asked.

Ferris shook his head. "No," he replied, "he didn't."

"You have all of the other days, though, right, Zip?" Ren leaned back in their chair so they could look at Zip's screen.

He nodded in response.

"You could run what you have. Assuming that the Monday in Ashley's second to last entry was this past Monday, the undated entry was either on Tuesday or Wednesday. Although, we might be able to narrow down when Ashley's last entry was written when we get a, uh..." Ren glanced over at Kristin, trailing off as they hesitated. "When we get a, uh-. A time of death on when he likely was murdered."

"I'm not going to break," Kristin grumbled, burying his face in his arms as he brought his knees closer to his chest, as if he could fold himself up. Maybe he could even disappear. Escape the pain, even though he knew it was selfish. "I'm not going to break. Say Ashley was murdered, because he was. Don't dance around the fact that someone cut his life short for some terrible, twisted reason. I'm not gonna get mad for you speaking the truth." His lip curled. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he spoke, and Kristin hoped they didn't make him seem pathetic.

Zip typed out what Kristin assumed were some commands for whatever code he was about to run and then hit enter.

Nothing happened for what felt like an eternity but what Kristin knew couldn't have been more than a second or two— Zip's computer was far too fast.

"I..." Zip began. "It's not... exact. —cuz only days and not dates. B-but have the-the approximate timeline."

"Let's hear it," Charlie said, sitting up a little straighter to better see Zip.

Kristin wanted to listen to Zip. Hear his soft voice that trailed off and paused, but always continued on. Hear how his voice lightened when he got excited, fluttering like a bird as the words smoothed out and fell from his mouth, no longer catching and stuttering, instead tumbling like fallen leaves in a pattern sometimes only he could follow.

No, Kristin grumbled internally, rubbing at his face. He had to stop that train of thought.

Kristin tried to listen to Zip; what he was saying was important.

But Zip's words went in one ear and out the other. Kristin couldn't hang onto them for more than a few moments. By the time he was able to begin to piece together the meaning of one sentence, another came to take its place, sending him into a spiral of trying to keep up with everything Zip said, yet always being further and further behind.

Ren glanced back at him and where he was curled up. Their expression softened, face falling in pain and sadness. "Would you like me to get you something to eat? Charlie and Ferris can help Zip if you want to take a break." Ren drew nearer as Charlie and Ferris nodded their agreement.

Kristin took several breaths, holding back the tears that burned in his eyes. He swallowed around the lump in his throat, and then shook his head. "No..." he trailed off, choking on a breath before continuing. "No, you go... check on the dogs. I'll find something for myself."

It was a transparent excuse to be alone, but Ren didn't say anything. They nodded. "I probably should," they said, offering a sad smile when they opened the door. "The dogs could use some exercise, and I should change the bandage on Morpheus's side. If you need anything, you know where I'll be. I'm only a message, phone call, or holler away."

"We are too," Charlie said, gesturing to herself, then Ferris and Zip on either side of her.

"I'm not helpless." There was venom in Kristin's voice, an edge he didn't intend but couldn't stop. Frustration bubbling to the surface and frothing over the side. A spitting demon chomping at the bit with a snarl contorting its face, baying for something Kristin didn't know. Blood? Revenge? Chaos? Peace, maybe? It was a can of worms Kristin didn't want to open; it was easier to try to lock away the demon. It hurt far less.

Charlie's face tightened for a split second. "I never said you were," she replied.

"I can do stuff," he continued.

"I know you can, Kristin." Ferris's voice was calm, low and even tones. "None of us are doubting your capabilities of doing anything. You're not helpless. It is a very tough time, and we were offering to lend a hand. If you do not desire our assistance, you can say no. We will not be offended in any sort of way."

"Such fancy talk," Kristin muttered. He turned his head to the side. "I can get my own food. Let me know when you find something."

He got up before his voice could crack and before Ferris —or anyone—could respond.

xxxx

The kitchen of the SFPU house looked like a foreign land. Like something from another reality. The same layout, but unfamiliar to the point Kristin wasn't sure he recognized it, as if it were from another world.

And perhaps it is, he thought with a sour internal grimace that twisted his insides. He hadn't been in the kitchen since before he learned of Ashley's murder. The last time he stood on the tiled floor or on one of the thin mats that lay at the foot of the sink and stove, Ashley was still alive.

Kristin's grip on the countertop was tight enough that his knuckles blanched.

Food. I need food. It was a simple enough task. None of them had eaten very much in the past few days, so there was plenty to choose from. Fruits, meats, veggies. A random assortment of half-eaten cartons of snacks in the cupboards and containers of leftovers in the fridge.

Kristin could feel the eyes on his back as he tugged open the doors of the cupboards, trying and failing to read the words on the boxes to see what was available for him to eat. He could feel the words on the tips of tongues when he stood in front of the fridge long enough for it to start beeping at him, staring sightlessly at the array of foods on the clear shelves. Voices trailed off until the only sounds were the dinging of the fridge and the heavy weight of silence.

After he grabbed a bag of shredded carrots, dragging it from its drawer and letting it drop onto the counter, the voices picked back up, and the rest of the group continued with whatever conversation it was that Kristin couldn't muster up the headspace to follow. Several carrots fell to the ground when he yanked open the bag but he didn't pick them up. The few he managed to put in his mouth tasted like textured air. Cardboard. Something that made him gag but that he choked down. Food. He needed food.

He could feel the weakness spreading through his body. The trembling. The fuzziness. His last full meal had been days ago, and anything he'd eaten since then wasn't enough. But any sort of hunger he felt was distant and fleeting, forced far down to the faintest of muted sensations by the crushing weight of grief and pain and hopelessness.

Kristin exhaled through his teeth and ignored the worried glance Zip gave him. As much as he'd appreciated Zip pulling him away into his workshop, Kristin just needed the parallel company with him in the kitchen and everyone else in the living room. Company without having to interact.

He rounded the counter and sat down on one of the stools, facing the fridge with his back to the group. When the stool began to twist, he braced his knees against the cabinets lining the space beneath the counter.

xxxx

The bag of carrots was half gone when Ferris approached him. "Hey, Kristin," he said. "We found something and we thought you should know."

Kristin twisted the stool around. "What did you find?" His voice was harsher then he intended —a knife's edge of cool steel— but he couldn't get the words out to formulate a sorry.

"I think it would be easier if you could see the journal," Ferris said, waving him toward the table.

As Kristin followed, Ferris began speaking again. "We created an approximate timeline with the days Ashley labeled his entries with and times mentioned in his writing. It's been a week or it's been a month, things like that."

"Ok," Kristin murmured. He sat down in the chair closest to Ashley's journal. "What did you find?"

"Well," Ferris started, "we found a lot. Ashley kept a detailed journal. Much of it is about things we did in the camp or entries about poachers we caught, and some of it is him writing about what he was thinking about that day or events from Cat's Cradle and before the two of you joined the SFPU. But other entries —mostly the later ones— mentioned Arkreon a few times, as well as a disease, and Leviathan Inc. was in there some, too-."

"What are you saying?" Kristin mumbled, trying to sort through Ferris's words in his head. Straighten out the jumble that he couldn't yet piece together.

Charlie spoke before Ferris could. "We were thinking that Ashley might've been about to figure out what he was looking for," she said. "He's got a lot of little bits of things and probably a lot more on his laptop, but, at least from his journal, it seems like it's vague pieces of information and little that's fully concrete. The beginning portion of his research, I suppose."

"And he's got it all in here?" Kristin rubbed his fingers across the cover of Ashley's journal.

Charlie nodded. "He might have other journals and have collected other information, but at least part of it is in his journal."

"How long did he know about the whistleblower's claims?"

Ferris sighed. "Well..." he trailed off. "We don't know for sure. The days give us a better sense, but it's not exact. Our guess is that Ashley knew for a couple of weeks, perhaps the last month or two, but we can't say that with any certainty."

Kristin was quiet for a few minutes.

He wished Ashley would've told him. Told any of them. The SFPU could've helped. It might've been dangerous. They might've turned over rocks that didn't want to be lifted. Enemies might've been made. But the SFPU didn't make any of them popular. It carried with it an inherent danger; they went after the criminals seeking to slaughter the wildlife in Silverlight Forest. Dangerous was something they'd dealt with before. They knew how to capture criminals while still remaining lawful, and they had capabilities beyond what the average citizen of Waverwell had. Not the same capabilities as an officer at one of the Precincts or under government employment, but more than the average citizen; they could carry concealed guns and an array of weapons without permits on their body anywhere and use them, they could make arrests, they could train and utilize dogs in hunting offenders.

They knew how to work together as a team, even in dangerous and high-stress situations.

The SFPU could've helped. So why hadn't Ashley told any of them anything? Why had Ashley kept it all a secret? A pang of hurt sliced through Kristin's heart.

We could've figured it out, Ashley, he thought, wishing as hard as he could that his brother could hear. Hard enough that his chest hurt and his heart clenched and his insides twisted up. Whatever it was, we would've figured it out. Just like in Cat's Cradle, when we stuck by each other no matter what. No matter how bad it got, we always had each other.

Why didn't you tell us? We would've figured it out. There were six of us, not just two. We had Cynthia Corville. The President of Waverwell. She would've helped.

I wish you would've told us, Ashley.

A spark of anger flickered in Kristin's gut, but it fizzled out within a fraction of a second, drowned beneath the waves of grief that rolled through him. Up and down and up and down. A churning, swirling tide that didn't give him the relief of a moment's rest.

"What do we do now?" Kristin lifted his gaze from Ashley's journal. He exhaled a slow, trembling breath.

**Start of discussions about what to do with Ashley's body/interactions with his cremated body/laying him to rest**

"Did Ashley ever write a will or anything like that?" Ferris's voice was soft. Kristin hated how he knew Ferris had changed his tone to seem less threatening, more gentle. "I know you said you didn't think he had, but I wanted to ask again since perhaps you found something."

Kristin shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. "No." The sound was almost a whimper. Frustrated, he drew in a sharp breath between his teeth, fists tightening. "He never did. It was never needed in Cat's Cradle since no one was looking for us. No one would know or even notice if either of us died. Only the other would ever have knowledge of our existence. When we joined the SFPU, it didn't cross either of our minds. We never really talked about death. The few times we did, we'd just joked about growing old and fat together in some far-off little cabin squirreled away in the middle of nowhere, still forgotten by everyone else."

"Didn't your parents know?" Charlie asked. Family had been a touchy subject, one that had been avoided for the most part unless explicitly brought up by the person talking.

"We didn't know our parents. I don't have any memory of anyone raising us. It was always just me and Ashley."

"Well," Ferris said. "If Ashley didn't write a will or anything that would say what he'd like done with his body and possessions in the event of his death, the decision falls into your hands, Kristin. You're his brother. Cynthia Corville has offered the ceremony and burial given to Waverwell government officials. Ashley would be laid to rest in the Corville Cemetery. The choice is yours, though. Whatever you believe Ashley would've wanted."

Kristin choked on a breath. "I-I... I can't."

"You can." Kristin flinched at Zip's words, but before he could reply, Zip continued.

"You can," he repeated. "You... you knew A-Ashley better than-better than us. You... you know what he would've said in... in a will had he-he b-been able to write one. Probably r-really, really tough, I-I'm sure... but you know. Follow your... your heart, I guess. Hard, but you can do it."

"I can't... cuz then I have to say goodbye. I can't lose him. He's my brother."

Kristin knew Ashley was dead. There was no bringing him back. Ashley's body was a body— it no longer housed his brother. It was beginning to break down. What had once kept his body alive and functioning no longer existed. Everything that had made Ashley Ashley was gone.

His brother was decomposing. Breaking down. The sterile environment at the Moonfall Precinct could prevent and slow that, but there was only so much that science could do. Stopping natural processes wasn't one of those things. He would have to make that decision of what would happen with Ashley's body. The thought of doing so make his heart twist and clench in his chest.

Kristin shuddered as his mind's eye fell back onto the memories of seeing Ashley's body. His dark skin paled from a lack of blood and torn from the countless cuts and gashes. The fleeting glimpse of how his throat had been split open because Kristin couldn't bear to look at the fatal wound that had taken his brother's life any longer. The limp feel of his brother's hand as Kristin clung to it and tried to will life back into his body.

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Nothing Kristin could do would ever be able to bring back Ashley. He had never felt so utterly helpless. Completely at the mercy of whatever cruel being had decided Ashley's fate.

Charlie got out of her chair and sat down next to Kristin, forearms on her knees. She twirled the knotted bracelets on her water bottle around her fingers. Ferris followed suit, as did Zip.

"I know it is a very tough decision, probably one of the toughest you've ever needed to make-."

Kristin cut Ferris off. "The toughest," he snarled, vision blurred by stinging tears. "The toughest decision I've had to make, and I can't even make it because the second I think of Ashley it's like my heart gets ripped from my chest and stomped into the ground. As soon as I think of Ashley I have to think about the fact that I can never see him again. I can never say goodbye. I can never hug him again. I have to live the rest of my life without my brother, and I had no say in that. He got murdered in the same forest we vowed to protect, and I could do nothing. We were always there for each other, but I wasn't there for him when he needed me the most." He stopped when he choked on a breath, and when he continued, his voice was far softer. It had lost the edge and the bite, instead becoming something closer to a whimper. "And I can't even tell him I'm sorry. I can't even give him a hug and tell him that I love him and that I miss him. I couldn't even tell him goodbye. God, it hurts so much. If it feels like this, how am I supposed to live the rest of my life without him? What is forever going to be like without my brother? He's one of the few I'd actually want to spend any sort of forever with, and I can't even do that. Why'd he have to go? Why'd he have to get murdered?"

"I don't know," Ferris murmured. "I wish I could say."

"I don't want any useless platitudes. Nothing can bring back Ashley." Kristin's voice cracked, and he buried his face in his arms.

"What do you need?" Charlie asked. "I want to help if I can, but I don't know what would be most helpful to you."

Kristin glanced up at her than looked away. He sighed. "I don't know what to do with Ashley's body or any of his stuff."

"Are you..." Zip trailed off, frowning at the ground as he chewed on his lip. "Are you-. Do you want us to... to just listen or-or do you want us t-to help?"

Kristin paused. "I don't know," he eventually mumbled.

"How about we listen and then if you'd like our opinion or recommendation or anything, you just let us know?" Ferris offered.

"How do you decide?"

"How do you decide what?" Charlie asked, twirling the knotted bracelets on her water bottle around her fingers. It was clear she knew but didn't want to assume.

Kristin pressed back into the leg of the table, tilting his head back so the sunlight streaming through the window didn't shine directly into his eyes. He took a shaky breath, then another. "What to do with Ashley. I don't want to."

"I wish there was something I could say that would make it easier. Some convenient decision," Ferris said, "but I can't, because I'd be lying and I'd be taking the decision from you. I know it's hard, but Ashley cannot say what he'd like done with his body and belongings, and so the decision rests with you. You're his brother, and you know him better than anyone else. This is probably about the worst time to be asking you to make any sort of choice, especially one like this, but you need to decide what you would like done with Ashley's body."

"I know. I know, I know, I know. It-it's just... it'll feel so much more real. Then I can't keep wishing that I'd just wake up from this nightmare. I could just keep living in the in-between and not have to figure out how to accept that he's gone. That the pain's never going away because Ashley's never walking through the door again." Kristin spared the front door a longing glance. He could so clearly picture his brother opening it and greeting them with a wide smile and a cheerful hello. It felt so real that maybe it really was.

"I know, Kristin. I know." Ferris's gaze held a thousand emotions and a depth Kristin hadn't seen before. "It's about the hardest decision one could ever have to make, and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. We're all here for you in whatever way you want."

"What-," Kristin started but broke off when his breath caught in his throat. His heart shattered and crumbled even just thinking about bringing Ashley's body to any sort of rest, and saying any words related make it feel so much more real. So much more painful. But he continued, voice a hoarse croak: "What are... what are the-the options?"

Ferris took a breath. "Well, there's the burial Cynthia offered. There would be a big ceremony for Ashley. I don't know the details of what it would entail, but it would be elaborate and honor Ashley. He would be buried in the Corville Cemetery, as most Waverwell government officials are. Ashley could also be buried elsewhere, with a big ceremony or a smaller one or no ceremony at all and just do something very small. He could also be cremated, and you could keep his ashes or spread them in some place he loved."

It was an overwhelming feeling, having to decide.

Kristin racked his brain, trying to remember anything Ashley might've said that gave any sort of clue as to what he would've decided for himself, if given the option.

Ashley had never been one to draw a lot of attention to himself. He was a people-person, but never particularly liked being the center of attention. His love of people and just things lay more in helping, in doing.

Before the SFPU, they hadn't had a real home. They didn't have any place to return to, a place they could always go. The closest thing was the bluffs on the outskirts of Cat's Cradle. But that wasn't a home; it was just grasses overlooking the run-down city they were trying to survive in. Somewhere they could get a brief escape. They were kids, then teens, then young adults who had somehow managed to carve out a way to stay alive. Death had never been something they thought about.

The SFPU was their first real home and their first truly honest work. No stealing, no cheating, no hustling— just real work for real money. Holding his first paycheck in his hands was something Kristin never thought he'd been able to do. Ashley had kept his within arm's reach for the rest of the day and stole countless glances at it. He'd been so excited for the next supply run, and he'd returned home with a dozen books because he just couldn't decide which one to get and little gifts for everyone. Kristin still had the fuzzy little toy mouse on his bedside table, thick grey fur matted with dust.

"Not the ceremony," Kristin said. He knew it was right when something settled just so in his chest. Like pieces of a puzzle falling together. He knew Ashley would've wanted something smaller, something more personal.

As if sensing Kristin needed more time, no one replied and gave him peace and quiet to work through his thoughts.

Kristin thought back to the conversations between him and Ashley when they were living in Cat's Cradle. They always just took it day by day with little thought to the future. Any thought to the past was learning from mistakes. In their free time —whether in the evenings before they fell asleep or when they were resting between finding food and whatever else they needed— they talked. They talked about anything and everything. Whatever was on their minds then. Sometimes it was memories, sometimes what if questions, sometimes making up stories, sometimes watching people walk by and creating funny stories about what they might be doing.

They'd talked about the future. What they think they'd do in ten years, twenty. When they were old and grey. It had been hard to imagine a life outside of Cat's Cradle. A life where they were holding down steady jobs, had a house. Maybe they'd even find spouses, but after a quick glance at the other, they'd laughed. Can you imagine, Ashley had said, finding a spouse? Having someone else would be so weird. I can't imagine. Kristin agreed.

Even still, he'd wondered. Wondered what it would be like to have someone else close in his life who wasn't Ashley. He was pretty sure Ashley had wondered too.

He'd always thought Ashley would be there when he fell in love or when he'd gotten his heart broken. Be there to celebrate a love found or comfort him and help him pick up the pieces, if he ever found someone he wanted in that romantic way.

But I guess that just wasn't in the cards, huh? He thought, steeling himself against the pull towards the rabbit hole. Ashley can't be there for anything? And I can't be there for him? We can't get to celebrate our successes and comfort each other when things went wrong? Why? Why did he have to die? Please, just tell me. I'm begging you. Please. I just want to know.

Ashley, I'm so sorry. I should've been there for you.

Kristin took a breath. He knew he needed to make some sort of decision; waiting would only make it worse. It would only hurt even more, if that were possible. He could decide. For Ashley, he could decide. He was doing it for Ashley, because his brother deserved to be put to rest and honored in the way he would've wanted if he could've made the decision himself.

And so Kristin gathered the tattered scraps of his mind and tried to force them to work, to come to some sort of decision.

"I..." Kristin rubbed at his eyes and sniffled. "I think we should cremate him."

"You would like to cremate Ashley?" Ferris said.

Kristin sighed, high noise a whine from his throat. "I don't know," he croaked.

Ferris paused, careful eyes scanning Kristin. "You can have more time if you'd like. We're not going to force you into a decision."

"No, no. He-he. Ashley's rotting. I need to decide."

"Ashley isn't rotting." Ferris shook his head. "His body is being kept safe and sound at the Moonfall Precinct. If you need more time, you can have it."

"So safe and sound he must be. My brother is laying dead there." Kristin leapt to his feet, fingers clenched in bloodless fists. Every muscle was tensed, coiled as tight as a loaded spring. He choked on his next exhale, a pained whimper. "He's been ripped to shreds because I wasn't there! Do you call cold and dead safe and sound, Ferris? Do you?"

"I apologize," Ferris said. "I did not intend for my words to come across that way, but intentions to not override the impact words can have. I meant that Ashley's body was not going to decompose at the Moonfall Precinct. You have more time if you need it. I did not mean that Ashley being murdered equates in any way, shape, or form to safe and sound, because that is not the case."

"Such fancy words," Kristin grumbled. "He was murdered. It wasn't ok. He didn't deserve that."

"He did not," Ferris agreed, voice soft.

Kristin took a breath, then forced the words out before he could swallow them down. "We should... we should cremate him."

"You'd like to cremate Ashley?" Ferris echoed his previous statement.

Kristin nodded. "Yeah, let's-let's cremate Ashley."

"Would you like to keep his ashes, or is there a place you'd like to spread them?"

The answer came quicker than Kristin thought it would, and he only found himself thinking for a minute or two before he knew. "The bluffs near Cat's Cradle," he said.

"You want us there or you want to do it yourself?" Charlie asked, voice a slow drawl. Her words were even less enunciated than they usually were, a tell that she was beginning to shut down in a way similar to how Zip sometimes did, not that Kristin would ever mention it. He didn't have the energy currently, and even if he did, he had no intention of calling her on it, not with everything going on.

"You can come." Kristin knew Ashley would want them there. The year spent in the SFPU had fostered a deep bond between the six of them. It was a makeshift family Kristin and Ashley hadn't really ever had. It gave them the first friends they ever had who weren't the other. "Ashley would want you to come. He really liked you guys. All of you."

xxxx

It was a week later, and the bluffs overlooking Cat's Cradle were devoid of anyone. The air was silent, hanging heavily in the sky. Kristin briefly wondered if the bluffs had been intentionally cleared but didn't give it any further thought; he was holding Ashley's ashes tight to his chest, arms cradling the urn. It was the last time he'd get to hug his brother, even as one-sided at it was, and he wasn't going to waste it.

He could almost feel Ashley's arms around his middle, the ghostly touch so achingly familiar. His heart twisted.

What he wouldn't do for just one more embrace.

The rest of the SFPU trailed a few steps behind him, silently following and giving him his space. Somnus, Morpheus, and Pyxis padded beside Ren; they hadn't wanted to leave the dogs behind on such a long trip and they hadn't felt comfortable asking if Larson Hotch or anyone at the Moonfall Precinct would be willing to watch them. Morpheus's wound had healed enough that he was returning to his normal level of activity, and the short hike gave Ren the chance to watch his gait and see how he moved.

It was a familiar trek up the side of the bluffs. Little had changed since Kristin had last seen them. There were a few new little bushes and shrubs, but it was nearly exactly as he had remembered it. The same trail snaked up the side, zig-zagging up the steepest parts to keep the path at a safe incline. A couple cut-throughs had been created by people doing dares— get to the top the quickest.

Kristin and Ashley had partaken in a few dares themselves, ones they knew they'd be able to win. They had only ever agreed when the money to be won was high enough to be worth it and had stopped joining in once Kristin had almost fallen.

As he passed that spot by, Kristin gave it a lingering glance. He wouldn't ever forget that lurch in his chest and the spark of panic that was quickly followed by the world becoming that much sharper and the prickle of sweat on the back of his neck.

xxxx

Standing on the top of the bluffs, Kristin's heart ached at the familiar view. The run-down buildings making up Cat's Cradle spilled across the hillside like popsicle stick and playing card houses. A few tilted perilously to the side, as if drunk. Far off in the distance, past the expanse of grasses and shrubs covering the southern half of the Twin Mountains, Kristin could see the outline of Dal and Corville. Little smudges on the horizon.

He couldn't count how many hours he and Ashley had spent up on the bluffs, most of the time just sitting down to watch Cat's Cradle and talk.

Kristin could almost see Ashley's outline. Laying back against one of the rocks poking through the grass, picking the bark off a stick, weaving together flower stems to create a bouquet. He could almost hear Ashley's laughter, the rise and fall of his voice when he talked. He could almost feel the pressure of Ashley's touch when he shoved Kristin's shoulder with a cry of disbelief. Come on. That's just ridiculous, Kristin. No way.

The never-ending rain was little more than a mist that created dark spots on the shoulders of Kristin's shirt but didn't soak through. He didn't flinch; he had long ago gotten used to the rain. Zip tugged the hood of his jacket over his head and pulled his sleeves down to cover his hands. His shoulders shrugged up, but he didn't say anything.

Ren had the dogs sit off to the side, and they told each to stay, holding up a hand to go with the verbal command before turning their back. None of the dogs moved.

Kristin sat down on a rock, settling Ashley's urn in his lap. We're here, Ashley, he thought, sending the message silently outward in hopes that his brother would be able to hear it. We're here on the bluffs. I hope this is where you'd want to be. We came here so much when we were living in Cat's Cradle. It was as close as you could get to a home without every having one.

His heart twisted. If this isn't where you'd want to be laid to rest, I hope you can forgive me.

"Does anyone want to... uh, say anything?" Kristin asked, tracing his fingertips over the lid of the urn. The neat lines carved into the metal surface were delicate, carefully placed to give it a minimalist feel. Decoration without being intricate. Just enough there that it didn't feel empty, but not so much that the surface became crowded.

Kristin didn't quite know how to begin Ashley's service. What the right way was to say goodbye. He knew there was some way Ashley would've chosen if he had been able, but he wasn't sure what that way was. He hoped laying him to rest on the bluffs was what Ashley wanted.

Charlie plopped down next to Ferris, wiping away a water droplet from her cheek with a soft smile. They each sat beside each other on a smooth rock covered in a thin, patchy layer of lichen. She looked up with a startled expression when Ferris bumped his shoulder into hers and gave her a pointed look.

"Oh," she said, "uh, I do." She took a breath. "Ashley and I... we had, I guess like many of you know, a sort of back-and-forth prank thing goin'. We'd do things to mess with each other. Onion caramel apples, furniture transformed into temporary plant nurseries, googly eyes on food, sticky notes covering whole rooms.

"The most memorable was when Ashley transformed himself into a chair. He nearly gave me a heart attack when I sat down on his lap and then he wrapped his arms around me with a roar. I still don't know how he managed to create such a realistic chair costume and pull it off so successfully cuz I had no clue it wasn't a real chair, but he did it and it was one of my favorite pranks done by either of us.

"The camp doesn't feel the same without him. I don't think it'll ever really feel the same.

"We'll figure out who murdered him, I know we will. It'll get him justice, but it won't bring him back. Nothing can. We'll get to some new normal, but it won't be the same. He'll still be gone, and it sucks. I know he'd want us to remember all the good stuff. All the laughs and fun moments we had. But it's hard not to get..." Charlie trailed off, harrumphing and kicking a pebble away with her foot. "I just keep getting caught up in all the bad stuff about how Ashley isn't here and how he should be. I miss him. He was like a ray of sunshine. I can't remember him ever acting like he was in a bad mood. He was always cheerful. He was a jack of all trades and could do almost anythin'. He was like glue. I'm pretty sure he could get even the worst of enemies to become best friends.

"I miss him so much. I know he's no longer in pain and I have no clue if he's still here or if there's even something after death, but if he's still here and there's something waiting for when you die, I hope he's happy. We'll join him soon enough, but I hope he's happy. I mean," Charlie said, a sad smile playing across her face, "it's the afterlife. It's gotta be nice."

Kristin stared at his feet, watching as a trail of ants marched across the toe of his boot. He huffed. "If Ashley's still around in some way, he's probably sitting right next to us." Kristin lifted his gaze. Perhaps his brother was beside him, maybe standing off to the side by Ferris and Charlie, maybe leaning back against a rock alongside Ren, maybe resting with his legs crossed with Zip. "He wouldn't have given up the SFPU for anything. He loved it here. It was probably the best thing that happened. I don't... I don't know that he would've left, even knowing how it would-how it would end." Kristin's nose scrunched as his throat closed up.

The mist sprinkling down around the group turned into a drizzle, and water droplets splattered across the grass. Kristin leaned forward to shield Ashley's urn with his body.

"Ashley was dedicated," Ren murmured, gaze distant as they fiddled with a blade of grass. "He was extremely dedicated. When he decided he wanted to do something, he was going to do it."

"Dedicated like me," Charlie chuckled. "Nothing was gonna stop him." She dropped her head, eyes on her hands. The corners of her mouth fell, and a thousand pained emotions flickered across her face before she locked them behind whatever brick wall she'd lifted in her head and threw away the key.

"No," Kristin agreed, "nothing would stop him. Not when he put his mind to it. Especially with friends. He would've done anything and no one was going to get in his way. Stubborn like hell but loyal to a fault."

Twigs cracked beneath Zip's feet as he shifted his weight and then folded himself onto the ground after brushing a few leaves from a rock to get a drier place to sit. His body was tense, held stiffly, as if awaiting something unknown. "He..." Zip began before closing his mouth and furrowing his brow. It was another few moments before he continued. "Ashley was good with his hands. He-he picked up on stuff... quickly." Zip tilted his head to the side. "I mean... he figured out cars in a few days. Helped me on-on stuff enough that it be-became like his second job. Didn't even have to ask. Just did it. Just showed up and asked what he could do. Would be a lot less far along on the-the Camera Traps without his help. Meant a-a lot... I hope he knew that."

"He probably got a bunch of books about cars and mechanics," said Charlie. "He wanted to know everything about anything that piqued his interest."

"I believe he did," Ferris replied, brushing a few locks of hair that were sticking to his forehead. "I remember seeing him reading through several books on how cars worked and how to repair them."

"Ashley always wanted to know anything he could about damn near everything." Kristin huffed a laugh, wiping at his eyes in a heavy movement with the back of his hand. He ignored how much he was trembling and how tears rolled down his cheeks. No one commented; they were all crying some as well. Even Ferris, who Ashley had often teased for having an unbreakable poker face, had watery eyes.

The SFPU had lost one of their own.

And it hurt even more that it had been on their own turf.

Kristin wondered for the millionth time if there was something he could've done. If somehow he'd known that Ashley was out by Myway Highway in need of help, that Kristin could've saved his brother.

No, he thought. Ashley's gone. You can't keep getting caught up in the what-ifs. It's too late for that. You can get justice for Ashley, though, and make whoever's responsible pay for what they did.

But another part of him still wondered if he would've been able to save Ashley if he'd somehow known what was happening out by Myway Highway. If he'd known how much his brother needed him.

"What do you think things are going to look like in the future?" asked Ren, curling up cross-legged on a rock a few feet to Kristin's side. They angled themselves so the dogs —still sitting patiently— were in their field of vision. "Ashley could get along with anyone, but now he's... he's not here."

Kristin only managed a pained shrug.

Ashley's urn was a lead weight in his lap. Simultaneously something he wanted removed but never wanted to let go. Something that hurt so much but would hurt infinitely more when gone.

Ferris spoke up. "We'll still be able to run the SFPU if we decide that is what's best for us. It won't be the same. Nothing will. But we'll be able to run it how we feel is best. But we're not in any hurry," said Ferris, giving Kristin a meaningful look. "We have all the time we need to figure things out."

A breeze blew through, and the scents of the dirt and flora filled the air, melding with the smell of rain. Grasses whispered across each other. A few of the longer blades brushed against Kristin's legs, bringing back memories from when he and Ashley came up here before they joined the SFPU. When they were still living in Cat's Cradle and their lives were so simple yet also so hard. They could do as they pleased when they pleased, but there was always the looming reminder that they needed food, water, money, clothes, and a place to sleep. It was black and white— no one was coming for them, and so it fell on the two of them to find a way to survive.

The SFPU had felt like they could relax and take a breath. Set down the weight they had been carrying for so long.

But Kristin couldn't help but wonder if Ashley would still be here if they had never joined the SFPU.

"Are you going to spread Ashley's ashes?" asked Charlie, breaking the silence hanging over the bluffs.

"Charlie!" Ferris turned to face her.

"What?" She frowned. "I was just asking. Well aware it's his choice and I wasn't gonna force anything. Wasn't gonna push if he said yes or no. Just an honest question."

"Sounded a bit like you were pushing," Ferris replied.

"We probably should," murmured Kristin. He tilted Ashley's urn back so he could see the entire side of it. A droplet of water trickled down the side, following the etched-in grooves. He brushed it away.

Kristin was holding his brother in his hands, and he hated it. It was the closest he'd ever be to his brother again, but it wasn't really his brother. Ashley had died almost two weeks ago, and his body had stopped truly being his brother the second he took his last breath.

Why did you have to go, Ashley?

"How would you like to do it, Kristin?" Ren asked. Their voice was soft, gentle, as if talking to a skittish animal, and Kristin hated it, yet he also appreciated that no one was assuming anything. "All of us could be here, or it could just be you. We could stand off to the side, or we could head back to the car and give you some space." They kept their voice and expression neutral.

Kristin chewed on his lip. His heart twisted in his chest, clenching like someone was squeezing it in their fist. Tears burned in his eyes.

He was about to say goodbye to his brother in the most immediate, permanent way he could think of.

"By myself," was all he could choke out. He needed some time alone and the chance to say his goodbyes in private.

Ren nodded. "We'll be down by the car. We all have our phones, and you can call or message us if you need anything. Take as long as you need; we're not in any rush."

Kristin managed a nod, not moving from where he sat on the rock.

Zip drew closer, hovering for a few moments. Just when Kristin was about to ask what Zip was doing, he felt a jacket being placed over his shoulders. "I have another," was all Zip said before he walked off.

A few moments later, Kristin was alone, still cradling Ashley's ashes in his arms. It was the closest he could get to hugging his brother, but it felt the furthest away he had ever been. An impossibly large distance, because he had his brother in his embrace, but it wasn't his brother. Not really.

The second Ashley died, it was like everything that made him Ashley was gone, and Kristin was left holding something so close to his brother in his arms but that wasn't truly his brother.

But still, he tightened his grip. The metal of Ashley's urn was cool beneath his finger tips. Neat designs had been carved into the surface, giving it a clean, minimalist finish.

Everything felt still. Too still. It was as if someone had taken the remote of the world and pressed pause. The air felt still, heavy, looming around him like an oversized blanket. A choking sensation that clung to his body and smothered the earth.

Zip's jacket provided some measure of comfort, both in that it created a barrier from the rain and that he had thought to give it to him. Had thought about how he might want it. Kristin tugged the jacket more snugly around his shoulders. The fit was a little tight but he didn't care.

"Hi, Ashley," Kristin murmured, tilting his head forward to rest his forehead against the top of the urn. "I don't know if you can hear me, but I miss you. I hope I made the right choice. Don't hate me if I decided wrong. I wish you were here. I need you, Ashley. You're my brother. We were supposed to grow old and grey together, remember?"

He took several shaky breaths.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there, Ashley. I'm so sorry," he whimpered. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. I should've been there for you when you needed me most but I wasn't, and I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what you went through and how scared you must've been. I should've been there."

He trailed off, taking a shaky breath.

"I... I miss you, Ashley. I wish you were here. You should still be here. But you're not. And I can't bring you back. I can't create some... zombified you. And even if I could, I know you wouldn't want that. You would be so mad if I brought you back to life. And I know it would be my own selfish desire to not have to say goodbye.

"I don't know how to say goodbye to you, Ashley. You're my brother. You're the only family I ever knew. You were so loyal and so kind. And nothing could've stopped you from learning. You had an insatiable desire to learn, Ashley." Kristin huffed a soft laugh as tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped onto the grass. "You could never have enough books. I don't know what I'm going to do with all those books. Maybe I'll read them. Continue learning so you don't have to stop. You know, it hurts a little less if I think that you're still here with me." He held out Ashley's urn to look at it, as if he were holding his brother's shoulders and staring him in the eye, not meeting his reflection's gaze in the shiny metal of the urn. But when all Kristin saw was his own watery eyes, he pulled the urn back to his chest with a sniveling breath and shifted Zip's jacket on his shoulders so it didn't fall off.

"Maybe you really are still here, Ashley. It doesn't sit right to think that you'd just be gone. But maybe that's just the part of me that can't let go, can't say goodbye. I mean, I'm just sitting here and talking to this stupid urn because I'm stalling. I thought that sending the rest of the SFPU away would make it easier and somehow let me get that little bit closer so I'd be able to lay you to rest. I sent them away out of my own selfish inability to do the one thing I still can for you, and I didn't even think about whether or not you would've wanted them there, Ashley. I couldn't save you. I couldn't help you when you needed me the most. But I could still do this one thing for you; I could lay you to rest in the way you would've wanted. Please forgive me for letting my emotions get in the way of giving you the service you would've wanted and deserve.

"God. I miss you so much already. I don't know how I'm supposed to go the rest of my life —forever— without you, Ashley. I don't know how to do it. You were my rock. I hope you knew that. You were always there for me and were, for the longest time, the one person I could always go to. But now you're not here. I feel like I'm sinking."

Kristin sighed, wiping at his cheek and then dragging his palm across his pant leg. The fabric was damp from the rain. "If you're around in some way, I hope you're doing better. That you're whole and healthy again. You didn't deserve that, Ashley. We should've grown old and fat together and then died of old age like we'd joked about so much in the past. Become exactly like those old people we'd talked about— sipping drinks with little umbrellas in lounge chairs by the pool. We'd have those cucumbers over our eyes and face masks on. The easy life, remember?

"But we won't get that, because you were taken far too early. We should've died of old age and slipped away painlessly in our sleep. But you won't. I wish I was there, Ashley. I wish I could've taken away your pain. I wish I could've saved you, but I can't. And I'm sorry for that.

"I can't do anything. I can't bring you back. I can't turn back time and race to that spot just off of Myway Highway. I know that you're gone, Ashley, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. I wish I could give you just one more hug, tell you that I love you just one more time, share a laugh with you just one last time. But I can't.

"All I can say is that you're the best brother I could've ever asked for, Ashley Baok. The best brother. I wouldn't ever give up knowing you. I'd take the pain of losing you again and again because I got to know you. You were always there for me no matter what. You were loyal to a fault. There was nothing you wouldn't do for someone you loved, because you cared so much. You had the biggest heart out of anyone I knew.

"I don't know what living in Cat's Cradle would've been like without you, Ashley. I don't know that I would've been able to do it. You kept me sane during those really difficult times when it felt like every soul in the universe was against us, and you shared the joy I felt during the easier times when it felt that maybe everything would be ok. You made those long nights hiding out in the cold a little easier with your silent comfort and your whispered encouragement. I only hope I helped you in the same way you helped me.

"I'm so grateful for the time we had together. Don't laugh at me if that sounds cheesy or something, Ashley. But I really am. I couldn't have chosen a better brother if I tried.

"I hope you're ok wherever you are. I hope you know how much I love you."

Tears burned in Kristin's eyes and blurred his vision. He hunched forward, wrapping his body ever tighter around Ashley's urn. The closest he could get to once last embrace with his brother.

"I... I think I'll be ok, Ashley," he found himself murmuring, and something in his gut told him it was the right think to say. "I don't know how I'll do it, but I think I'll be ok. I don't know if you can hear me or if you're even still there, but you don't need to worry. You can rest now. You can let go, because I'll be ok. I have the SFPU— Ferris, Ren, Charlie, and Zip. I have them. I'm not alone, not like we were in Cat's Cradle."

When Kristin was able to get his feet beneath him and stand up, he walked across the bluffs, grasses brushing against his shins. He needed to find the right place for Ashley's ashes.

It was the place where he would lay his brother to rest. It had to be perfect.

The rain continued to fall steadily from the sky. Kristin pulled the hood of Zip's jacket over his head to keep the raindrops from landing on his face.

Eventually, he found a small sapling. It was only a few feet high, and its spindly branches were covered in a layer of delicate needles.

Something about it just felt right, and something settled in Kristin's chest.

"Here you go, Ashley," he whispered. "Let's lay you to rest."

xxxx

The hairs on the back of Kristin's neck tingled when he stood up, brushing his palms across his pant legs, and he could almost feel the faint touch of fingers ghosting across his shoulders.

Several birds took flight from a tree a ways off in the distance, and they soared through the sky, silhouetted against the sun and clouds.

"I love you, Ashley," Kristin whispered, watching the birds glide across the air currents. "I miss you so much, but I'm so grateful for the time we had with each other. You can rest, Ashley. We'll see each other again." Kristin huffed a short chuckle. "You're not getting rid of me. Not now, not ever."

The corner of his mouth quirked in the beginnings of a smile, but it fell soon after.

Kristin's legs felt like lead weights lodged in the ground.

How was he supposed to leave behind his brother? They'd never done that. Not once in their lives. No one left behind.

Raindrops trailed down his face, dripping from sodden locks of hair plastered to his forehead and from his nose. He was chilled down to his bones and he knew he was shivering, but he didn't feel the cold; he just felt numb. Like he was floating in some empty space, somewhere between reality and a nightmare. That moment where sleep hadn't quite let go but awake didn't yet have a full grasp.

Kristin turned back around. The little sapling swayed, branches bouncing each time a raindrop fell on it.

"How am I supposed to leave you, Ashley? I know I can't stay here forever and it hurts a little less thinking that we'll see each other again, that this can't be it, but I don't know how I'm supposed to just walk away." Kristin sighed. "I know you'd say something stupid like just put one foot in front of the other—it's how I walk away. Yeah, you definitely would've made some joke like that to get me to smile and to make it easier. I can almost hear you, you know, Ashley?"

**End of discussions about what to do with Ashley's body/interactions with his cremated body/laying him to rest**

Kristin took a deep breath.

The first step he took back down the path felt like the entire population of Waverwell was clinging to his ankles.

The second felt similar— he was dragging a massive weight.

Then he took a third step. A fourth. A fifth. A sixth.

The desire to go back to Ashley —to his brother— grew with every step, clawing at his chest and squeezing his throat until he was no longer shivering from the cold but from the sniveling sobs that wracked his body. Tears mixed with the raindrops running down his cheeks.

Kristin continued down the trail one step at a time, and when the pain became too much, he crossed his arms over his chest and curled his fingers into Zip's jacket, pulling it tight across his shoulders. A grounding reminder that he wasn't alone. He wasn't in Cat's Cradle any more— he was a part of the SFPU. He had more than Ashley. He had friends who would be there. Nothing could replace Ashley, but his friends would never leave him behind.

He didn't know how long it took to reach the base of the bluffs, but the SFPU car —the SUV that was used for both driving in the cities and in the Forest— soon came into view, followed by the other members of the SFPU. They let Kristin approach at his own pace, and when he got close enough, Ferris held out a thick blanket. When Kristin gave him a confused look, all he said was: "Every time Cat's Cradle was mentioned by you or Ashley, the rain came up. I brought a few blankets in case we got poured on, and you look pretty cold so I thought I'd offer a blanket."

Kristin gave a brief nod of his head as a thank you. He tugged off Zip's jacket and replaced it with the blanket. It was warmer than the jacket, but he couldn't help but miss the security, the reminder that his friends were there.

But, he supposed, they've proved they're there through actions that aren't as physical as giving a jacket. They haven't left, they haven't assumed anything, they haven't pushed more than I can take.

Zip took his jacket back, holding it gingerly in his grip, and he quickly threw it into the back of the car where a small pile of other coats had been started.

No one spoke as they all filed into the car. Ren loaded the dogs into the back after setting up expandable stairs, but they lifted up Morpheus themselves so as not to jostle the wound on his side too much.

When Kristin climbed into the back seat next to Charlie, who was in the middle, she frowned at him momentarily but held her tongue. He didn't reply and instead just rested his head against the window with a long exhale. Tears burned in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall; he'd shed enough tears already, right?

Kristin barely noticed it when Zip turned the car on, asked if everyone was ready, and then piloted the car onto the road. He barely noticed it when Charlie leaned forward, turned the heat up, and then angled the vent toward him. He barely noticed it when Ren handed Charlie another blanket, which she placed beside him. "If you want it," she murmured.

It was like he blinked and they were turning onto the drive that would take them from the outskirts of Moonfall and into Silverlight Forest. The twists and turns that were so familiar no longer felt comforting, and each bump the car went over felt like a knife slicing through his soul.

The gate to the SFPU camp creaked open, then closed after Zip drove through and pressed the remote button.

Kristin pushed away the hand Ren offered as he exited the car, and then weaseled his way in front of Zip to get into the house first. Zip let out a little gasp of surprise and stumbled back a step to avoid touching him, but he didn't say anything.

After fastening the lock, Kristin slid down his door and pulled his knees to his chest.

He felt like he couldn't get enough air, like all the oxygen had been sucked from the atmosphere. Logically, he knew that wasn't the case, but his scrambled mind felt that very well may have been true.

But he forced himself to take several long, deep breaths until he could think a little easier. Breathe, Kristin. Breathe, he told himself. There was plentiful oxygen. As much as he could possibly need.

He knew the haze fogging up his mind was panic, exhaustion, and the overwhelmingness of everything that had happened over the last two weeks. Of losing Ashley.

He pressed his forehead into his knees and wrapped his arms a little tighter around his legs. "You have your friends," he whispered. "You have your friends, and they're not going anywhere. They'll keep you from sinking."

xxxx

It was well into the evening when Kristin slid into a chair at the kitchen table and pillowed his chin on his crossed arms. The lip of the table dug into his ribs, but he welcomed the sharp ache. Anything was better than the yawning void of grief that he teetered on the edge of.

The setting sun shone through the window, rays silhouetting the trees. Insects chirped, and an owl sang. The air felt so still, yet also charged, like some invisible current was running through it.

"I'm gonna find something for dinner," Charlie said. She swung open the fridge. "You want anything, Kristin?"

He shrugged. "Whatever you're making." He wasn't hungry, but he had to eat.

"I'm getting some snacks. Some broccoli, a bit of chicken, probably some crackers or somethin'."

"That'll be fine."

"Alrighty. I'll bring you a plate when I'm done."

Kristin nodded, running his hands through his hair and pulling at the ends.

A few minutes later, just as Charlie was walking over, balancing two plates and a bag of chips in her hands, Ferris entered the living room, followed by Ren and Zip.

"Hey," greeted Charlie, handing Kristin his plate.

"Is there any more chicken?" Ren asked.

Charlie took a massive bite of sandwich, staring up at the ceiling in thought. "Yeah, like one or two more servings, I think. Guesstimate so don't quote me. In the left drawer."

Ren nodded, offering a quick thanks.

Kristin picked at his meal while the others found something to eat.

Eventually, they all wound up at the table. Zip curled up in his chair with a cup of hot cocoa, Ren settled in but kept an eye on the window to watch the dogs' building, Ferris leaned back as he took a bite of his sandwich, and Charlie hunched over her meal.

"Any updates on the Moonfall Precinct's investigation into who murdered Ashley?" Charlie moved her food around on her plate, mixing it all together into a multicolored mush of broccoli, chicken, chips, and part of a sandwich that ruined Kristin's already non-existent appetite.

"Nothing as of yet, but I wouldn't be surprised if they returned to here again to ask more questions or do another search of something. They know how to investigate, but we knew Ashley better than anyone else. Kristin knew him the best." Ferris shrugged. "They'll find who did it. I have no doubt about that."

Kristin leaned back in his chair, slouching down as he crossed his arms and stared at his plate, food virtually untouched. "Shouldn't we be doing something, though?"

"We can't really do much, but we can be there to do everything the Moonfall Precinct needs us to. They've got Asa and Azrael Smith helping them, and they're the best in Waverwell. They've got the highest closing rate of cases out of any detectives."

"About ninety-three percent of the cases they take get solved," Zip murmured. "The average percentage of-of cases that get solved by the Precincts is around... sixty-five... seventy percent. If-if I'm remembering correctly."

Ren dropped their fork in the sink. "Ninety-three," they breathed. "That's crazy high. If anyone can solve Ashley's murder and get him justice, it'll be them."

Kristin knew the full weight of what a ninety-three percent closing rate meant, but his brain was stuck on how he should be doing something to help and how he didn't know what. Ferris had already reached out to Larson Hotch and the Moonfall Precinct, asking if they needed anything and letting them know they were back from Cat's Cradle. Zip had reached out a few hours prior in the morning. Charlie was checking her phone every few minutes, as did Ren.

Kristin had his phone in his pocket, and it felt like a lead weight. The last phone call he had made was to Ashley, asking him where he was. The knowledge that Ashley was dead when Kristin had made that phone call made his heart sink through the floor and bile rise in his throat. How blissfully ignorant that Kristin had been. How little did he know just how much his whole world would change just a short while later?

His chair skittered back on its back two legs then fell over when he stood up, swiping his plate from the table and scraping his meal into the trash can. He'd managed a few nibbles of broccoli and a bite of chicken before he felt like he was going to vomit.

"There's gotta be something," Kristin said. His voice edged toward desperate. Knuckles white and fingers squeezing the sponge until soap frothed around his hand, he scoured his plate, and then nearly threw it into the dishwasher, slamming the door to it closed.

"Here, I can get your cup and fork." Ren gently pried them from his grip.

"Well..." Charlie hummed around a mouthful of food. She finished chewing before continuing: "There's whatever Ashley was lookin' at that he was writing about in his journal. We could see what he was researching."

"Continue his work?" Something fluttered in Kristin's chest.

Charlie nodded. "Yeah," she replied.

"I like that," he said.

They could honor Ashley. He never left anything unfinished— if he started it, then it would get done. But he hadn't been given the chance to finish this, and so the SFPU could do it for him in his memory.

Kristin's heart clenched, in pain but also in love. He felt a little closer to his brother, and he knew he had to do it. The SFPU had to do it.

"Let's create a new group," Kristin found himself saying, mouth working faster than his conscious mind could. "The SFPU hunts poachers in Silverlight Forest. Let's create a new group that hunts Ashley's murderers and finishes what he started."

Barely a heartbeat passed before Charlie slammed her palm on the table and stood up. "I'm in. When do we start?"

"I... Well, it was just an idea, but I'd say now."

"I like now," Ren murmured. "Skips the honeymoon phase and just gets right to it."

"If we're going to create a group, we'll need a name," Ferris said.

"What a-... about a logo?" Zip offered. "Don't groups need... need logos?"

"Ooh, good one. Any ideas, Kristin?" Charlie phrased it like an innocent question, but he knew none of them would decide anything without his explicit agreement.

He thought back to Ashley's journal. How the edges were worn from Ashley's continual opening and closing of it as he wrote in it day after day. The golden children etched into the cover, creeping across the ground with their bags of money overflowing with Corvilles. The last line on the last page: The sun is falling, darkness is coming, and then it will all be nyte.

"NYTE," he whispered, and he knew it was right.

"NYTE?" Charlie echoed. She repeated it a few times under her breath. "I like it."

"Does it mean anything? Like how the SFPU stands for the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit." Ferris leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his chin.

Kristin paused.

"Ashley said that he didn't feel safe in his journal, that he couldn't tell us because he wasn't supposed to know what he had figured out, so he said he was going to make sure everyone knew."

"Now You Tell Everyone," Zip said, voice starting off soft but quickly gaining volume. He met Kristin's gaze as he spoke.

"Now You Tell Everyone," Kristin agreed with a nod.

"I like it," Ren said.

"What about a logo?" Ferris asked.

Charlie broke the silence that hung over the room for several long moments. "What about an orca?" she asked.

"Why an orca?" Ferris frowned. Ren turned to their phone.

"I know they're not found in Waverwell," Charlie said, "but they're extremely intelligent and have very tight-knit families. They work together for the collective good, whether hunting or protecting their young, and in the wild some can live a lifespan comparable to a human's— sixty or seventy years. They teach each other everything and work together flawlessly. Wait, did you know that different pods can have different languages? Like, an orca from one pod and an orca from another pod can literally speak different languages. And," she added with a smile, "they scare sharks."

"According to a variety of posts on Muse, orcas represent things like family, strength, intelligence, and dedication," Ren said, listing each one off on their fingers.

"I like an orca for NYTE's logo," Kristin said. "How about the rest of you?"

"I like it," Ferris replied.

"Me too." Zip nodded.

"Me three." Charlie smiled.

"Me four, I guess." Ren shrugged.

"Now You Tell Everyone," Kristin murmured. "The sun is falling, darkness is coming, and then it will all be NYTE. We're going to pick up where Ashley left off. We'll get to the bottom of every single thing he started to research. Darkness is coming, but not in the night of day and night; it's the NYTE that will bring those responsible for Ashley's murder to the ground. It's the NYTE that will expose every single thing people have gotten away with that they shouldn't have.

"Darkness has fallen, and now it will all be NYTE."