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 Jake awoke in a silent room. Cool sunlight filtered in through the blinds on the window. He slowly sat up, a feeling of numbness descending on him as he realized he was in his own living room.

The events of the night before came rushing back to him as his head began pounding. He remembered Heather pointing a gun at him, Dale shouting at him in the cold, Stanley tossing table scraps to a pack of dogs, his mother crying over him at the med centre. Fighting with Skylar Stevens, listening to Emily defend Jonah, Eric and Mary excitedly telling him about Beck and his men letting them all walk free as they sat in plastic chairs in his room.

He shuddered, trying to figure out which parts had been real and which hadn't. It didn't help that some things- Bill clutching his broken nose, Gray's forfeiting the town from his office chair, and Heather's blood on his mother's arm - seemed sharp in his mind, compared to the hazy scenes of his mother, brother, Mary, and the doctors circling around his bed at the med centre.

Even more unnerving was the fact that he didn't remember how he got to the living room. Stretching out a leg, he winced in pain. He thought he'd remembered a car crash of some kind.

He moved to sit up. A familiar panic was starting to build. Not knowing what was real meant he would have to get out there right away and see what was happening. He stood, testing out his leg. He could walk, with relatively little pain. He mainly felt very stiff. He took a few quick steps, and bumped into the coffee table, sending a tray of food toppling to the ground. The glass of water smashed, and at its sound, he heard footsteps and familiar voices shouting.

 His mother raced into the room, followed closely by Emily. Before he had time to react, they had forced him back onto the couch, and had him wrapped in an afghan. He couldn't get a word in edgewise, between his mother's exclamations that he was home and safe, and Emily's breathless questions.

“What's happening out there?” he managed groggily, in between Gail's smoothing his hair back and Emily leaning in to kiss him.

Emily launched into an explanation that seemed vaguely familiar. It seemed as though Eric had been telling him about Beck turning his back on the ASA sometime last night, but he wasn't sure. His mother was silent through this explanation, watching him through shining eyes.

“But-” he didn't know how to make his confusion more evident to the smiling women who hadn't seen Jericho nearly obliterated last night. “How did I get here?”

“Oh, Sweetie,” said Gail. “Do you remember last night?”

“Some of it,” he said wryly.

She gave him a teary smile before she began. “I wasn't even asleep last night when Mary came to get me. I had this dream, about April, playing in the snow, and for some reason, I thought of you when I woke up. I couldn't sleep, so I came in here and sat. Mary came in the back door, and told me you were back, but you'd been in an accident. You were awake when we got there last night, Jake. I was so worried something horrible had happened to you, but you were sitting up talking to us. You didn't make a lot of sense, but we thought it must have been the shock.”

Emily squeezed his hand. “I can't imagine what you went through.”

He nodded, only vaguely paying attention to them. His mind was still on the people he'd seen fighting the soldiers. “What was I saying?” he asked.

Gail looked hesitant. “Well, for some reason, you kept telling Eric it wasn't his fault. Your brother was worried to death, and you kept telling him he'd done his best. But Kenchy said you would be fine - you'd had a bit of a concussion, but he watched you for awhile, and said you'd be okay to go home, if we watched you.”

He nodded again. “So you brought me back here?”

She nodded. “You were exhausted, but we woke you up every hour.”

“So? Am I going to live?” he asked.

She held his chin in her hand, looking up into her son's eyes. “I think you'll make it,” she said, a hint of her old teasing smile.

“Okay,” he said, steeling himself for what he wanted to do. “Thank you, both of you. For looking out for me last night.”

“Eric came to get me this morning, at five. Said your mom had been up all night and would I come help,” said Emily, quickly smiling.

He surveyed her cheery face for a moment before saying, “Thank you. Really, thank you for coming.”

She leaned in closer, fixing him with a serious expression. “Jake - what happened to you out there?”

“What? The accident?” he asked. “I think it was a road gang, I'm not sure.”

“No, what happened before that? Where's Hawkins?”

He could see how badly she wanted to know, but he couldn't bring himself to take his mind all the way back to Cheyenne. Not when it was on an empty Bailey's tavern and the ruins of a bridge.

“He's fine. I'l tell you...later, alright Em?” he asked.

She said nothing for a moment, but stared at him with confusion in her eyes. “Jake -”

“Later,” he whispered.

Gail, assessing the situation quickly, stood briskly, offering a hand out to Emily.

“Why don't you come have something to eat, Emily? You haven't eaten anything since you've been here, or stopped to rest.”

“But he just woke up -” she started.

“I'm okay, you go eat,” he said quickly. “Really, you should eat something.”

Though she looked as though she might resist, Emily squeezed his hand once more and stood up.

“Jake, can I get anything for you honey?” asked Gail.

“I think I'm going to - I need to get some air,” he said.

“Are you sure, Jake? You might want to rest a little.”

“No, I'll be okay Mom. I just really need to process some things.” He could see that she would like nothing better than to shove him back onto the couch and bring him blankets and soup, but he held out a hand before she could protest anymore.

“I'll come with you, Jake,” said Emily, starting towards him.

“No, you should get some rest,” he said. “But thank you.” He gave her a small smile.

Reluctantly, she smiled back.

He dressed quickly, barely taking the time to look at the strange man reflected in his bedroom mirror. He was more concerned about finding everyone else he hadn't seen since he'd left for Cheyenne. He hurried back downstairs, pausing in the doorway. He could hear his mother and Emily talking cheerfully. He glanced into the room, nodded to them, and stepped out again. He quickly made his escape before they could change their minds, leaving them in the kitchen, his mother standing over the stove and Emily sitting at the table, looking idly through a book.

He stepped out into the bright sunlight of the afternoon. Breathing in the still summer air made his head feel a little clearer. He was still trying to shake off the memories of last night, but they kept flashing back into his mind; little things, connected with the doorstep of a house, a crack in a window, or an old truck parked in a driveway.

 He walked along, his hands in his pockets. He noticed for what seemed like the first time just how well everything in town had been preserved during these difficult times. The army had helped rebuild the streets with mortar damage, the broken windows had been replaced, and there were even flowers growing in some of the yards.

A white truck slowed down as it passed him. He turned to see who was rolling down the window. Stanley leaned across Mimi to shout out of the passenger window, “Jake Green! I see the rumours are true! You're back and you've made it through another accident!”

Jake walked over to the window and looked in at his friends. “Yeah. Apparently, third time's the charm.”

“Only you, Jake. You and cats!” exclaimed Stanley. He had been grinning from ear to ear, but he suddenly turned serious. “I'm really glad you're back, man.”

“Me too,” said Jake. He looked at Mimi, who had gently pushed Stanley back towards his seat, though his arm remained across her shoulders. “You look good, Mimi,” he said softly.

She quietly nodded to acknowledge the look that passed between them. “Thanks,” she said.

“Well, Jake, I'd love to get out and catch up with you, but we're already late for Dr. Kenchy,” said Stanley.

Mimi grinned. “I'm on my way to finally getting my arm back,” she said, nodding towards the sling holding her arm against her chest.

“Don't want to keep you waiting on that,” said Jake. “Good luck!”

“Will we see you at Bailey's tonight?” she asked. Both of them looked expectantly at him.

“Uh, sure,” he said, finding it difficult to look away from his friends.

“We'll see you then, buddy!” said Stanley. “Now I've got to get the wife to her appointment, or she'll flip out on me.”

“Wife?” stammered Jake.

Stanley and Mimi glanced at each other, sharing a sly smile. “We'll talk later, Jake. Glad to see you're okay!” said Mimi.

She rolled up her window, and with that, they drove away, leaving Jake to stare after them. For a moment, he wondered if he'd woken up in yet another dream world. He'd been away such a short time, but so much had happened, it all seemed strange to him. Still, seeing Stanley and Mimi leaning against each other, laughing like that - he wanted this world for them.

He was pondering this, walking along, not paying attention to the side walk ahead of him. He was aware that there were people around him, and he walked among their conversations.

“Prepare to walk the plank!”

“Noooo -” Jake's train of thought was suddenly shattered as a blur of bright colours slammed into him. He clutched his stiff elbow, and looked down. Woody Taylor was sprawled on the ground.

Behind Woody, several other kids stood in a semi-circle, staring with serious eyes up at Jake. “Good going, Woody,” said one of the kids. Jake recognized him- he was one of the kids from the bus. His eyes travelled quickly over the group, and recognized a few others: Lucas was peering up in awe through his glasses, one of the boys who had held a flashlight for him was giving Woody a silent reprimand, and right at the edge of the group, holding a broken branch that had probably been her pirate's sword, was Stacy.

A rush of emotions came flooding back to him. He remembered everything suddenly in sharp detail - the details of two nights. Last night, when he had learned from his brother that the children were dead, and that night so long ago when he had saved them. He couldn't find words to speak as he looked down at them.

Woody was still on the ground, groaning slightly. A girl from the back of the group - Jake suddenly recognized as the girl who had taped together the straws - leaned down to whisper to Woody. He could tell she was talking about him. The others were all still looking up at him, with strange looks in their eyes. He vaguely recognized it - the same way people had looked at his father that day he was first inaugurated and Jake had been forced to wear a suit.

He reached out quickly to help Woody to his feet. The girl, Julie he remembered, was helping him brush the dirt off his clothes and on his other side, Hawkins' son, Sam, was whispering something. Woody's cheeks had turned red. “I'm sorry, mister,” he stammered. The others were all still giving him disapproving looks. It occurred to Jake that Woody had somehow committed a serious offence in their eyes.

“Hey, that's alright,” Jake said, tentatively putting a hand on Woody's shoulder. The boy looked up at him with nervous eyes. “It's okay,” repeated Jake. He quickly glanced at all of them, attempting a friendly smile. “It's okay,” he said again, directed at all of them.

No one said anything for a moment. Finally, Jake nodded and began to walk away. He kept himself from turning to look back at them. He could feel their eyes on his back. Only after he was a few feet away from them did he chuckle to himself. As he reached the corner to turn onto Main Street, he hazarded one glance over his shoulder. The children had finally resumed their game, and were running, shrieking, and brandishing stick-swords. One stood at the side, watching him still. Stacy. He gave her a nod. A smile came over her quickly, and she turned back to her game.

Jake turned back to his mission. His step felt a little lighter as he hurried the rest of the way to Bailey's.

He pushed open the door, breathing a sigh as he took in the familiar surroundings. The room was lit, the tables were wiped clean, the blackboard was advertising 'Revolutionary Hero Sandwiches', and the sight that distracted him from all of those things - His brother sat at the bar, his head bent, looking down at some papers spread across the counter. Mary leaned over the papers on the other side, her head close to his. She was the first to see the newcomer, and she quickly laid a hand on Eric's sleeve.

Eric whipped around, his shock transforming to a grin. Wordlesslly, the two of them came towards him, and he walked towards them. They stopped in the middle of the room, a distance of two feet between them.

“You're okay, then, Jake?” asked Eric, glancing down at his feet and then up at Jake's face.

“Yeah. I guess I said some weird things last night?” asked Jake.

“No, not - well, I'm glad you're alright,” said Eric. Slowly, he reached out an arm. Jake pulled his brother into an awkward hug, and after a moment, loosened an arm to pull Mary into it too.

“I'm glad everyone is okay,” said Jake, as they broke apart a second later. “Sounds like you guys did some crazy things while I was gone.”

Both of them grinned, a little sheepishly, but he could see the pride on their faces. “Didn't think we could survive without you, huh?” asked Eric.

Jake did his best to laugh, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. The door opened, and Mary walked over to greet the latest newcomers. Jake kept looking at his brother, who had taken on a serious expression. “You are okay, right Eric?”

Eric had been watching Mary's retreating form, but he looked quickly at Jake, trying to smile. “Yeah. I just - you're going to razz me about this later, so I don't know why I'd bother telling you, but I had this bad feeling last night. I had this dream. There was this dark field, and this woman. I think it was April. Haven't dreamt about her in a while. I could only tell it was her because of her hair. I just had this feeling when I woke up - and Mary said you were out there, and had been hurt. I'm just glad - glad you made it home Jake.”

Jake had been glancing at the wall behind his brother during this confession, but he had also seen Eric's face as he spoke. He spoke carefully himself now. “Me too.”

“Jake -”

He turned around. Dale Turner stood near the doorway. Skylar Stevens was next to him. Mary stood nearby and it seemed they had been engaged in a conversation. “You're okay?” asked Dale.

He looked utterly uncomfortable. Jake had a sudden flash of the terrified look on Dale's face as he'd woken on the road the night before. “Yeah, thanks Dale,” he said.

There was a heavy silence in the air that went on until Mary broke it, offering to bring everyone drinks. Dale and Skylar politely declined, reasoning that they needed to continue with their work. Jake briefly wondered exactly what work they were doing these days, but resolved to find out later. It could wait until he had finished seeing all he needed to see this afternoon. He accepted a drink of water that Eric offered him, and listened half-heartedly to his brother's talk about a gathering at Bailey's that night. He was watching the other three conversing quickly on the other side of the room.

“Of course, the news that you're back has got everyone excited, and so people are planning to come out here tonight. Stanley said he hoped you'd be here, and Jimmy and Bill are both planning on telling you all about their parts in the defeat of Major Beck's regime.”

Jake could only chuckle as he learned that everyone in town knew by now of his return, and his accident.

“Last time everyone was here, we'd just buried Bonnie.” Eric's voice had gotten quiet. He looked carefully at Jake. They had told him about their bold foray out of hiding, and how Beck and his men had cornered them at the grave, but the details of Bonnie's burial had been glossed over.

“I guess I missed the funeral,” Jake said. He didn't know what else he could say. For a moment, had had felt bad he hadn't been there for his friends, but realizing just how much farther things could have gone in that direction, he realized how absurd it was. He hadn't dreamt that world to make him feel guilty about things he couldn't control. “She out by her parents?”

“Yeah,” said Eric.

Both brothers were quiet, barely noticing the sound of the door shutting. Mary busied herself wiping glasses at the bar. Finally, Jake made his decision. He knew who he wanted to see next.

“I'm going out there. To pay my respects”

Eric nodded. There was no explanation needed. Mary turned and caught his eye. “Bonnie?” she whispered.

Jake nodded at her.

“Do you need a ride? You should go see if Dale's left yet. They were going out that way,” she said quickly, urging him towards the door.

Jake, not wanting to brave the walk out there, thanked the both of them quickly and promised he would hitch a ride back when Stanley came by to check on the animals.

He rushed outside, scanning the street and quickly seeing the truck Dale had used for his business pursuits. He made a beeline for it.

Sure enough, Dale and Skylar were already seated in the cab. Dale was about to start the engine when Jake waved frantically through the windows. Skylar noticed him first, and nudged Dale as she opened her door.

He made known his situation and they obliged, Skylar moving over so that he could sit in the passenger seat.

As the truck started to move, Jake noticed Skylar glancing out the window across him. He followed her line of gaze towards the lawn in front of town hall, craning his neck suddenly to look up the flag pole. “What's that?” he asked in surprise.

“It's been there since the rangers came out of hiding,” said Dale.

“I heard Gray put it up when he got back from Cheyenne,” said Skylar.

Jake watched the yellow and green flag grow smaller as they drove farther away.

As they made their way down the familiar streets, Jake found himself amused at the awkwardness that had sprung up between the three of them as they rode so closely squashed together. This Dale and Skylar, though they'd done, according to some accounts, things that would have put him to shame in his days of teenaged rebellion, were in some ways still just as painfully young and awkward as ever.

“So when are you going to tell us what happened out there?” asked Skylar. Only because they were crammed together in such close quarters did Jake pick up Dale's subtle warning nudge. Undeterred, and briefly flashing Dale a dark look before looking back to Jake, she said “People are talking about going to war with Cheyenne. Well, are we?”

Jake took in her raised eyebrows, and noticed Dale seemed curious as well, though he determinedly kept his eyes ahead on the road. He'd always seen them both, and Skylar especially, as a bit of a nuisance at times, and other times an unexpected ally. He'd never thought that she would be the first person he'd tell this information. “It seems that way, yes.”

She processed it for a minute, and her eyes took on a resigned look. “Okay. That's what I thought.”

Sensing that Skylar's question hadn't upset Jake terribly, Dale cleared his throat. “Are we going to get more information than that?” he asked.

Jake sighed. “Yes. I promise you, you'll find out everything soon enough. I'll share what I know, soon as I can. But there's something I need to do first.”

Dale took his eyes off the road to study Jake for a second, but he seemed to accept this answer. Skylar didn't say anything else either. She was looking ahead with a sombre expression, but he thought she looked determined too.

When they reached the edge of the Richmond property, Jake insisted that they let him walk the rest of the way. Without a funeral procession, visitation or eulogy, he wanted time to make his way up the hill slowly.

They drove away and left him alone. His leg was still sore as he walked across the grass, but he barely noticed it. It was such a beautiful day. It seemed like such an irony, considering his purpose there, but also completely fitting.

He thought he would reflect on so many things: holding her out like a wiggling football the first time he'd been introduced to his friend's new baby sister, helping her play tricks on Stanley when it was already past her bedtime, groaning over her obsession with The Lion King that one year, or any of the ways she'd become so grown up these past few months. It was the one thing that he'd been reminded of last night that came to him again now. That day behind the barn, the bicycle he remembered from when they were kids, but painted purple now. She'd ridden it around and around the yard, laughing every time she zipped by him.

He felt so solitary under the laughing blue sky he was shocked to see a figure standing at the edge of the Richmond family plot. He felt a strange tingling as he got closer and saw who it was. He wanted to run up to her, reach out and touch her, to be sure she was alive. He thought to himself how silly this was. She'd never been dead. Instead, he walked towards her.

“Heather!”

She'd had her back to him, and spun around, a startled look on her face. “Jake!” There was shock on her face, and a whole lot of other things he couldn't try to examine at the moment. He was only able to stand there smiling at her.

She ran the few feet to where he stood, and stopped abruptly. “I heard you were - well, you hadn't come back, and then -”

“I tried to come back, as soon as I could, only -” Though things had been tense the moment before she had spoken, now they quickly came together in a breathless hug. He wasn't sure if he was pulling her towards him or if she was pulling him. They pulled away from each other just as quickly, and the tension returned. He couldn't stop himself from staring at her.

She was solemn. “I heard you got hurt. Are you okay?” she asked, lightly touching his arm.

“Yeah, I've been worse,” he said with a shrug.

She smiled a little, relief evident on her face. “I just - I heard you were at the med centre and no one knew if you were going to be -”

“I guess you can't believe everything you hear in this town,” he said with a laugh.

She couldn't seem to bring herself to smile again. “Well, I'm glad you're okay, Jake.”

He felt stupid because he couldn't keep the grin off his face. “I'm glad you're alright! I heard you got arrested -”

“Ah, it was nothing,” she interrupted, waving her hand absently.

He shook his head. “No, it wasn't. I can't believe what you did.”

She looked him in the eye again. “I just did what I had to do.”

“You didn't -” he began, but knowing he had gotten her into it in the first place, he couldn't find a way to finish the sentence. He glanced instead at the direction from which she'd come. “Did you come to see Bonnie?”

She nodded. “I woke up this morning feeling horrible that I hadn't been out to pay my respects yet. I saw Stanley, and Mimi, but I just couldn't come out here alone. This morning though - don't laugh, okay? I had this dream about Bonnie.”

He looked expectantly at her, all trace of joking gone. She hesitated a second before finishing. “There was all this water. She was in a row-boat. And you were with her. She was telling you to get out of the boat, get back on shore. Then she looked at me and said she had to go. She just paddled away. Weird, huh?”

He shrugged. “Could've been weirder.” He motioned towards the gravesite, his eyebrows raised.

Without a word, they walked over to the fresh mound of earth, nestled amongst the gravestones of long-dead Richmonds. They were certainly not among the first to have made the trip up the hill - bouquets of wildflowers covered the ground by the simple wooden cross that temporarily marked Bonnie Richmond's final resting place.

He stared at the ground, wanting to find the words to say goodbye to that laughing girl with the purple bike, but unable to in the presence of the woman who wasn't dead, but standing beside him.

“I, uh, got in another accident last night. I had a rough couple of hours. When I was lying there on the road, I had time to think about things.”

He kept his eyes on the sunflowers lying in the dirt, but he could see her out of the corner of his eye, doing the same.

“I'm sorry I put you in that position. I should never have -”

“Jake -”

“I didn't think how bad things could get, what could happen -”

“Jake, really.” She turned to look directly at him. “I did what I thought needed to be done. That's how it works, right? We all play our part?”

He stared at her for a few seconds. He couldn't tell if it was amazement that she could talk that way after nearly being destroyed by the secret he'd asked her to keep, or amazement at seeing her standing in the sunshine, her hair blowing around her face. He took a breath. “I know a lot of things have happened. I'm dealing with things; you are too. Sorry I haven't been a very good friend.” He swallowed, imagining again how she had looked when she had answered the door with a gun. “I just wanted to tell you how glad I am that you're okay. That you came home from New Bern, and Cheyenne. How glad I am that you're alive. And -” he paused to take one more breath, “- how glad I am that I met you on that bus.”

She gave a small laugh, but her eyes had become a brilliant blue. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I mean, I'm glad too,” she said with another laugh. He reached out his arms slowly, and she put her arms around him too, leaning into a hug. He held on tightly, wondering how many times in his life he would hold her in his arms after losing her. He didn't laugh at the absurdity of it, just smiled at how relieved he felt.

They let go again, and he was intensely aware of where they were standing. “I, uh...”

She seemed to realize what he was getting at. “Oh, I was almost done here.” She glanced down again, her eyes suddenly sad. “I wish I'd known more sign language. 'Where's the bathroom' seems hardly appropriate.”

“You could say 'Have a good sleep',” he suggested, demonstrating as he spoke. “I learned that one for when I came over to watch the game with Stanley. She'd always try to get us to let her stay up and watch The Lion King with her instead.

She chuckled softly, then repeated the signs herself. “Like this?”

He nodded. She turned to the cross again. “Have a good sleep,” she whispered, pulling her hand away from her lips and folding both hands against her cheek. She turned back to Jake. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome,” he said.

She looked like she wanted to say more. Finally, she asked, “Do you need a ride back to town? When you're ready, I mean.”

He shook his head. “I think I'll be a while, but thanks. Hey, are you going to Bailey's tonight?”

“I -” she began, but faltered.

“You should come,” he said. “We could talk, you know. Like old times. Before everything got so crazy.”

She laughed. “Yeah.” She nodded a wordless goodbye and turned to leave.

“Heather?”

She turned again. As a breeze blew through their hair, he couldn't help but smile. “If you ever need anything -”

“Yeah, I know. You too,” she said with a smile of her own. She was gone then, over the grass and back towards the town of people he couldn't leave behind.

He looked again at the final resting place of one of the ones who was leaving him behind. It was still so strange. He could never have imagined she could be gone like this, in a fraction of a second. They would always leave like this he realized, with little warning. There would be no keeping them there, no way to tie them down so they couldn't escape into the summer air.

Last night, it had seemed like a choice. He could keep his feet on the ground, where everyone must lose and fall, or he could go with them. It had seemed like they were hovering so closely, he might just be able to reach out and grasp them with the tips of his fingers. He had wanted to, and to let go of the ties that held him in this so often miserable place. Finally, in choosing the breathing, fragile people who still walked on the ground, he'd despaired that the others, whose voices he'd almost heard, who left scents in the air, would slip away from him forever.

Now, standing here with only the dead as his witness, he felt that they were still around, hovering on the edge of everything. They were still tied to this place, in the teary eyes of their family members, the things they'd once built with their own hands, the memories they would flit in and out of. They were still wound tightly through the life of this community, as much as he was himself. It wasn't about choosing to let go of the dead, then. It was about choosing to walk with the living.

It was strange that it took almost letting go to realize how much of a hold this place had on him, and how much he had a hold on it. He'd cared for his family and friends before, appreciated their talents and marvelled at the dumb luck that had seemed to fall into their path after the bombs. Never before had he considered just how much of it he had made, and how much of it they had created themselves. He had foreseen uncontrollable forces of destruction, heading in their direction. Now, he saw their capability too.

He looked at Bonnie's marker again. Such a simple end to such a long goodbye. He felt them all now - not just her, his father, his sister-in-law, his best friend, his grandfather, and all the others. They needed him too. He had to go on playing his part in the lives of their loved ones, to carry on the work they'd started, to keep all of this going in ways they no longer could. Though he knew he would long for them again, long to be able to reach out and touch them, he understood the lesson.

He bent down slowly, reaching out to touch the earth, but he was looking up at the clear blue sky. “I'm going to keep trying. I promise,” he whispered.

Knowing he would soon be walking back to the farm, thinking of trivial things like when Stanley would show up to feed the cows, if Heather would tell him her latest story at Bailey's, and when Hawkins would call with an update, he contented himself for the moment to keep his thoughts still, remembering the dead and living he could not let go.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter End Notes:

The movie that captured young Bonnie's heart was the Disney film The Lion King, released in 1994.

 



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