"Hey, Frick?"

"Yeah, Frack?" I glance over at Nick, who is looking completely baffled. His eyebrows are drawn together, his angular nose is scrunched, his lips are pursed, and his eyes are narrowed. I know him better than just about anyone, and know that he is not the "dumb blonde" that so many people accuse him of being, but, wow, does he have the look down. To really complete the look, there's something about the way the moonlight is reflecting off him--practically making him glow--that is kind of making him look absurdly angelic, which just adds to the whole naive image he presents at times. At least I think it's just the moonlight making him look that way. Egads, what a weird thought. Nick, an angel. Huh.

Maybe he's always looked that way and I just haven't noticed it before. After all, we've both been doing a lot of deep reflecting over the past several hours. Realizing all sorts of things that we'd never really considered before. It's been quite a reflective sort of night.

Considering the rather overwhelming events of the evening, his confusion is completely justified, but the question he asks surprises me a little. "Have you ever thought about dying before?"

Not a dumb blonde, but often an absent-minded one.

He stops walking and looks over at me when I don't answer right away. I didn't think it possible for him to look any more confused than he had a moment ago, but he manages it somehow.

I smile and tap my chest a few times in the rhythm of a heartbeat. Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Thu-thump. I stop tapping my chest and give him a wide-eyed look, opening my mouth in a mock gasp as I collapse down in the sand and twitch a couple of times before stilling my body. It is in extremely poor taste, I know, but sometimes you just gotta do these things. Laugh and it takes the fear away at least for a little while.

Completely unfazed by my most recent death, he grins sheepishly and drops down beside me, stretching his legs out so that his feet are just barely out of the water. "Yeah, I guess you have."

I sit up next to him and clap a couple times then say, "N-G-O."

He turns his head away quickly so that I won't see the new wave of confusion, but he isn't quite fast enough for me not to catch it. The bewildered look has returned full force, but he doesn't ask, not wanting to admit he has no idea what "NGO" stands for. He shouldn't feel bad because I'm betting that 9 out of 10 people over the age of 12 wouldn't get it immediately, either. But, of course, since he doesn't recognize the reference, he doesn't know that. He's probably thinking it's yet another of those moments where he's about to be made to feel really stupid about having someone take a moment to explain it to him. That someone usually laughing at him for not getting it immediately. Not that I do that...most of the time. He makes such an easy target sometimes that it's really hard not to.

Though he tries to be good-natured about it, I know my best friend hates it when he looks stupid. Especially since so many people are quick to assume that his lack of a traditional education (and what I strongly suspect is undiagnosed ADHD, but that's beside the point) is a lack of gray matter. In reality, when you can get him to focus his attention on anything, he's actually quite bright and will come up with all sorts of interesting ideas that most people would never come up with. Unfortunately, his brain usually seems to move a lot faster than his mouth, so things often come out wrong or he'll lose track of what he's talking about in mid-sentence and trail off looking confused. That doesn't always make for the most brilliant sounding commentary. Shortly after I met him, though, I learned that if you patiently give him a few moments to get back on track and explain what at first sounded like nonsense, it usually ends up being something rather fascinating. Unfortunately few people ever figure that out and are quick to laugh at whatever he first comes out with, making him clam up rather than try to explain. It's sad, really. I think he's been told he's stupid enough times that he doubts his own intelligence.

Not wanting him to feel bad about not getting my reference, I start singing the old kids song I was referring to as if I intended to sing the whole thing anyway. "There was a farmer had a dog and...go was his name-o..." Clap. Clap. Clap. "G-O." Clap. Clap. Clap. "G-O." Clap. Clap. Clap. "G-O. And...go was his name-o." I continue on singing the next verse, bobbing my head along with it.

During my impromptu concert, Nick turns his head back toward me just enough that I can see the corner of his mouth curve up and his eyes start shining with amusement again as he watches me out of the corner of his eye. When I finish my song, Nick launches immediately into another old campfire song, forgetting about his earlier question. It's my turn to watch him as he playfully goes through the hand motions for "Peanut Butter and Jelly". I grin watching him, wondering if I looked as silly when I was doing "Bingo" as he looks now. He's too much sometimes. But then that's probably what I like so much about him. No matter how tough times get, he isn't above taking some time to just push it all aside and have fun. He doesn't have the fear of being childish and is comfortable being goofy. I burst out laughing as he finishes out the last verse of the song exaggeratedly pretending that his mouth is all stuck with peanut butter.

"If we ever do another concert, I think we should have that be part of the first set," I inform him as he falls silent. If. Ouch. I shouldn't have gone there.

Nick doesn't catch my slip, he chooses to ignore it, or he has a lot more faith that there will be another concert than I do. Much as I don't want to admit it, I think the Backstreet Boys are officially over as of tonight. I never thought I'd see that day, never *wanted* to see it. But I can't deny that things won't ever be the same after what happened. How could they possibly be?

"YEAH! And, hey, maybe we can get Kev to do 'Goin' on a Lion Hunt'?" Nick suggests enthusiastically. His fervor keeps me from letting my blunder get me depressed.

I start giggling--honest to God, *giggling*--uncontrollably imagining the look on Kevin's face when Nick and I inform him of the new direction our concerts should take on. It'd be too fun to get AJ and Howie to band together with us and actually try to convince Kevin that we all honestly want to do a set of kiddie songs in front of thousands of unsuspecting fans.

Nick looks over at me grinning widely, his eyes are almost blinding they're shining so bright. "Wanna?" he asks, as if he can read my thoughts. Sometimes I actually think he can. Either that or he just knows me so incredibly well that he can fake it extremely convincingly. I know that he's got to be thinking about the priceless look that would appear on Kevin's face in the moments before he figured out that we were pulling his leg. The mind-boggled look of utter exasperation coupled with a total loss for words would be absolutely priceless.

"Next concert we'll do it," I agree, getting my laughter back under control. Assuming there is another concert. I try to adopt Nick's faith in that, but I have my doubts. I know he has come up with this theory that tonight is all just one big mistake and it will get corrected shortly. I don't think there's any way to correct things, but who am I to dash his hopes when I don't know how things will turn out?

We laugh for a few minutes, each of us slowly drifting into our own little worlds. I can only guess what is going through Nick's mind, but I'm still thinking about the fun we could have with Kevin as we came up with the new concert format.

After a few minutes Nick leans back, inching closer to me and letting his head drop down against my shoulder. The troubled look has returned to his eyes and his smile has faded away again. Playtime is over, time to deal with the present.

"What's going to happen?" he asks softly. His belief that everything will get corrected is fading again. In the past several hours he's gone in circles on that whole theory. He's happy as long as he believes it, but it's obvious that he isn't totally convinced and has had several moments of doubt where he's started getting borderline panicky again.

Leaving his head resting against my shoulder, he shifts slightly so that he can look up into my face. It looks like such an awkward position, the way he's craning his neck, but he doesn't seem to notice at all. I can tell he's trying really hard to keep calm, and needs the physical contact just to keep himself grounded. I totally understand that since I've been feeling the same way. I casually sling my arm around him, which makes his smile return a little bit.

I have no idea how to answer his question, though. The only things I can come up with aren't really things I want to voice--particularly not to Nick, who is prone to taking emotions to extremes.

I'm actually really amazed at how well he's been taking our situation. The first few minutes he had been a total mess, understandably, but then I'd managed to get him calmed down and he'd been doing pretty good since then. A few minutes here and there that were touch and go, but otherwise he was doing good. I'm just glad I could be there to help him through those first few minutes. Otherwise I can only imagine how long he would have been stuck in that panicked state.

I don't want to totally freak him out again with my theories of what is going to happen after tonight, especially since that's all they are, theories. Fortunately, he seems to realize my hesitation is for a good reason and doesn't press me for an answer.

We sit silently for several minutes leaning against each other, watching the water lap up on the shore. Nick flinches the first time it reaches his feet. He pulls his legs in so that no part of him touches the water again.

It's really amazing how peaceful the night is tonight. I would expect it to be stormy or something on a night like the one we've had. Things like what happened to us aren't supposed to happen on nice days. Tonight, of all nights, should not be peaceful.

"Do you think we're supposed to stay here? Until he...they...whoever comes to get us?" Nick asks me after a while. "Or think it'd be okay to go back to my house and wait...or whatever?"

I honestly have no idea. No one has come for us yet, but it doesn't seem right that we just be abandoned here. We've moved a little ways down the beach, not wanting to stay right around where it happened, for obvious reasons. But if we look back that way we can still see the place where it all started. And ended. But, of course, neither of us particularly wants to look that direction. Or at least I assume he doesn't, I know I don't. We've seen all we want to see of what's over there.

"Think the other guys are still waiting for us?"

I cringe at that question. Nick and I left on our snack run hours ago and haven't returned to the house yet, so the guys are probably worried by now. They don't know that we didn't really get very far. Then again that would worry them more if they did know that, particularly if they knew it was because we'd been car-jacked just outside of the front gates of Nick's house.

Kevin had fallen asleep during the first movie we'd rented, and Howie had been kind of tired, but AJ had been pretty hyper, so he had probably woken them up at some point when we didn't come back. They would likely be out looking for us by now. I wonder if they have spotted Nick's Durango yet. Probably not or they'd have found us already, I guess. It'd be pretty hard to miss the big SUV sitting out on the cliff's edge, though. Which meant they probably hadn't left the house.

If they were even able to.

Wow, I wish I hadn't had that thought. They probably are just waiting there for a phone call from us, telling them that the Durango broke down and neither of us remembered our cell phones or something. Of course, that's what they are doing. Waiting. At least I really hope that's what they're doing. But what if it isn't?

"We should go back to your place," I announce, keeping my reason to myself for the moment. No need to worry Nick unless necessary. "I don't think they'd leave your house unlocked, so I'd guess they're still there," I answer his other question. As I get up, I look up the beach toward his house and am thankful to not notice any smoke or flames or anything. So Howie, anyway, is probably still safe...unless he isn't at the house. Or unless my theory is completely off-base, but considering what happened to Nick and me, I doubt it is. I'm pretty sure that everything about what happened to us was very precisely planned and executed. I'm not much of a believer in coincidences.

It takes me a few moments to realize that Nick isn't following me. I turn and see that he's gotten up and is looking back toward where it happened. I don't want to look there, and don't think it's a very good idea for him to, either. Not that I expect him to be over it immediately or anything, because well...it's not the sort of thing you can ever just get over, I don't think. But I saw what happened to him after...After. I don't want to think about after what. I refuse to relive that. I hope he's not reliving what happened to him, either, because it really wasn't pretty. I'm not sure which was worse for me: what actually happened to me, or having to watch what happened to him after that. I really don't want to think about it long enough to decide. At least what happened to me was over really fast. What happened to him...well, that was devastatingly horrific and I don't want to think about it. I don't want him thinking about it, either.

I reach out and put my hands on his shoulders, physically turning him around so he doesn't keep looking back. There's no point in looking back anymore.

"I always loved the ocean," he says very quietly. He smiles, but I'm not fooled; his eyes reflect an intense sadness. Not that I blame him, of course, he has every right to be sad. His favorite place in the world is now the scene of the worst night of his life. I'm not entirely sure why I'm not really broken up myself. (Oh the irony of *that*.) Maybe it's because I've been prepared for something like this for a really long time. Well, not *exactly* like this, of course. But I've been prepared. He hasn't had that...benefit? Curse? I'm not sure which at the moment.

I take his hand and start leading him down the beach toward his house. His mood starts lightening a little bit again now that he isn't looking back there. Or maybe it's the physical contact reminding us both that whatever lies ahead we've still got each other to hang onto. We're going to be okay. At least as okay as it is possible for us to be, all things considered.

We're almost to the house when Nick suddenly stops and looks back down toward the beach. "Hey, Frick?" He sounds worried.

"Yeah?" I steel myself, getting ready to calm whatever new fear he's come up with.

"I think I lost my keys down there somewhere."

I laugh, relieved that's what he's concerned about. He must be back to the part of the cycle where he believes everything is going to be okay again. "I think we'll get by without them," I assure him, still chuckling.

He looks back at me with a doubtful expression. But he nods. "Yeah. I guess I can always get a new set...you know...whenever."

I raise my eyebrow and smile patiently at him but say nothing.

We don't speak again as we walk around to the front gate, then around to the back of the house again where we left the sliding glass door open on our way out.

The TV is still on and we head quickly into the entertainment room. Kevin is still on the sofa, snoring softly. Howie is curled up in one of the overstuffed chairs and AJ is sprawled on the floor, both sound asleep. So much for them worrying about us. I guess that's a good thing, though. They'll get one night of good sleep before they hear about how Nick and me spent the night.

Nick gazes at them, looking slightly sad. I'm not sure if it's because they haven't realized that we're missing or if it's because...things are going to be so different after tonight. "Think we should try to wake them?" he asks.

It's tempting, but I don't really want to face that yet. They deserve one last night of good sleep. I shake my head. "Let them sleep. They'll wake soon enough." The stars are starting to fade, it will be dawn soon.

Nick nods and sits down on the floor next to Howie's chair. He looks up at our sleeping friend for a few moments before looking back at me. "Did it really happen?" he asks. "Or are we maybe sleeping, too?" His eyes are glossy with unshed tears.

I cross the room and drop down beside him. I'm pretty positive that we're not asleep. If I were asleep, I would have wakened from the nightmare already, I'm pretty sure. My silence answers Nick's question and his head drops down against my shoulder again. He doesn't make a sound, but a couple tears roll down his cheeks before he blinks the rest away before they can start. Poor kid, he is so unprepared to deal with what happened to him.

For a few minutes we sit watching over our friends and ignoring the TV. It's an infomercial for some cleaning formula and not terribly interesting, but neither of us makes any sort of move to grab the remote. I think we're both kind of nervous about trying that.

After a little bit, Nick starts to sit up straight again. "Why...?"

It's not a real question, so I have no real answer. So I go for one that will hopefully lift Nick's spirits. "So that we can come back here and watch infomercials?" I suggest, nodding at the television where some guy is proudly wiping his kitchen counter with the amazing, new, improved product. He grins slightly, so I take it one step farther. "Probably His way of telling you that you need to mop your floors more often." Nick actually laughs a little at that.

"How do you know it's not a sign for you to mop your floors?"

"Are we at my house?"

He glares at me, but his eyes are a little too bright to take it as a serious glare. But it's obvious he doesn't have a good reply to that, so he changes his tactic and swats at me playfully. "Maybe it's a sign that I'm supposed to clean your clock."

"My socks? That'd be really great, I have been rather lax in doing my laundry..."

He laughs again and pushes me over. "You, dork."

"Gonna play it that way, are you?" I mock grumble as I sit up and eye him. All I have to do is hold up my hands and make a little tickling motion and his eyes go wide.

"Oh no. Uh uh. You know I'm way ticklish," he informs me, backing away from me a little. Like I don't know that? He's the most ticklish person I've ever met. He stops, though as he runs into Howie's feet which are dangling over the side of the chair. Howie doesn't even twitch.

I move a little closer to Nick, hands still raised, giving him an evil grin.

He shakes his head and holds up his hands defensively. "Don't you dare."

I inch closer.

"You know," he starts sounding serious, obviously trying to deflect my attention onto a different pursuit than torturing him. "It'd be fun to tie Howie's shoelaces together. Then when he wakes up and stands up he'll like trip and everything."

I shake my head. "You're so juvenile," I inform him.

"Yeah, but it'd be funny."

And more importantly to him, it would divert my attention from tickling. I roll my eyes, but stop my approach and watch him to see what he'll do.

He reaches up and starts trying to get hold of Howie's shoelaces. I watch as he fumbles with them several times, not seeming to be able to grasp them. His smile fades as he keeps trying unsuccessfully. I sit back down and watch him struggle with it. I figure he's moments away from really fully grasping our situation. I'm not sure if I should say something before that or if I should let him work it out for himself.

He stops for a moment and looks back at me, the sadness fully back in his eyes. "It really happened didn't it." It's not a question. I nod and move closer, expecting him to start having another panic moment. But he surprises me. He smiles, though it's still sad. "It's okay. I knew already. I just...wasn't ready to face it, you know?"

"Yeah."

I watch him another moment as he turns to look at Howie's shoes again, his expression growing determined. He flexes his fingers a few times then focuses all his attention on one last try to close his fingers around the laces.

To my amazement he actually manages to do it. He grins widely, but remains completely focused on his task. "Doesn't mean we can't still have some fun does it?" The kid never ceases to amaze me. I watch as he concentrates on his mission. It takes him several minutes to perform the simple task, but he does it. "You wanna try on Kevin's?" he asks when he's done. His eyes are lit with mischief. Some things will never change.

I laugh, but move toward my unsuspecting cousin's feet. I start trying to get a hold of the laces but, like Nick hadn't been able to at first, I can't seem to, either.

"You really have to concentrate a lot," he informs me, moving closer.

I nod and turn toward Kevin's feet again. As I'm reaching toward them, though, my concentration is shattered by the sound of the doorbell.

I rock back and stare at Nick. Who is coming here at this hour? Nick is already on his feet and headed to the door. As we move into the entry way we can see the flashing lights. The police. Someone must have found the Durango. Nick stops going toward the front door and instead backs up, moving deep into the shadows. He isn't ready to face this.

The doorbell rings again and I hear Kevin grumbling but getting up. "I'm comin', Nick, you moron. What'd you do forget your keys?"

"I resent that," Nick mutters, glaring at Kevin, who completely ignores him as he shuffles toward the door, nearly tripping over AJ. I decide not to remind Nick that he, in fact, doesn't have his keys. It's really a moot point.

"Whozzat?" AJ growls as he starts to sit up.

"Sorry," Kevin mumbles back.

The doorbell rings again and AJ lets out a big groan. "Who the fuck would show up at this hour?"

Kevin stops as he notices the flashing lights. "Oh God." He sounds fully awake and rushes the rest of the way to the door. Nick watches for a moment, then turns and heads out the back door, not wanting to witness the inevitable scene. I'm torn on whether to follow him or not. I decide to give him a few moments.

"Kev? What the fuck?" AJ gets up and heads after Kevin.

"Officer?" Kevin greets the policeman at the door as he's opening it. He sounds borderline panicked.

"Are you Nickolas Carter?"

Kevin shakes his head. "No. I...I'm not sure if he's here. He might be upstairs...?"

"Can you check, please?"

"HEY NICK!" AJ bellows, hearing the officer's request.

"Damn, AJ," Howie whines as he wakes. "Could you keep it down?"

"Nick's not upstairs," I whisper to AJ, who is standing just about a foot away from me.

AJ tenses. He looks toward the stairs, nervously. After a few moments of silence he takes off, running to go check the bedrooms for Nick. A few moments later he calls. "He's not up here!"

"Can I ask what this is about?" Kevin asks, his voice sounding slightly shaky.

"We located a Durango registered to Nickolas Carter over..." the officer trailed off as a second police car came speeding up the driveway. "I'll be right back," he informs Kevin before he heads out to greet the other officers. Kevin hesitates for a moment then follows. I trail along a few steps behind, glancing back over my shoulder. Nick has come around the side of the house and is watching from a distance, but makes no move to come closer.

"What is it, Johnson?" the first officer asks the newly arrived one.

Johnson glances at Kevin, then back at the other officer. "Sir, there's something you've got to come see," he says carefully.

They found the bodies, I just know it.

"What is it, Johnson?"

"There's a body, sir."

Just one. I wonder which one they found.

Probably mine. Nick's is a little harder to spot since it's partially under water. Mine is sprawled at the bottom of the cliff where they found the SUV.

Kevin looks back into the house. I can see the fear on his face and can feel it radiating off him.

"Kev?" AJ asks, as he approaches behind me. I glance at him and see that he must have heard the mention of a body. He looks more than a little sick.

"Stay here," Kevin orders him quietly as he opens the back door of the police cruiser.

"What's going on?" I hear Howie ask in an overly sleepy voice. A moment later I hear a loud crash as he trips and falls into the coffee table. "Damn...what the...who tied my shoes...? dammit, Nicky!"

I smile back at Nick, who smiles very briefly before turning and heading back into the house.

"Stay here, my ass," I hear AJ mumble and then he's brushing past me and following Kevin into the back of the waiting police car. A few moments later Howie appears in the doorway. His shoes have been abandoned.

"What's going on?" he asks worriedly. He glances back into the house and then hurries up the walk to join the others in the car. He doesn't even bother to close the front door. I can feel his dread as he breezes past me and into the car.

I watch as the car pulls out of the drive and heads back to the cliff side. I am torn as to whether or not I should follow. I don't want to go down there. I know what's down there. I saw what the fall did to my body and it's not pretty. I don't want to see it again.

The decision is made for me, though, as the door slams shut behind me. A few moments later, all the windows of the house close all at once. Nick clearly wants to be left alone. So I leave him and run after the car. Oddly I am not only able to keep up, but I know that if I wanted to, I could surpass it. And my body doesn't have the normal strain that comes with running. My muscles don’t ache; they don’t even feel the effort being put on them. I don't have to struggle for breath. Of course that is probably because I don't actually breathe anymore, but it's still quite amazing. In fact, I find myself running past the SUV and on up the cliff's edge for what must have been about a mile or so just to enjoy the feeling. I understand now why so many people choose running as a way to relax.

I return just as the officers begin making the trek down the cliff to the beach below. I watch as Kevin makes his way down the path, following them. They need someone to identify the body.

Howie and AJ are both here, but they're staying up top the cliff with the Durango. They both look pale and sick. They're also both shivering like it's freezing out, but it's a warm summer night. I wish I could say something to them, comfort them a little, let them know that Nick and I are okay. Except that I guess we're not. We're dead. I know that, but we're still...here. Which is, to say the least, very weird.

I've thought a lot over the years about what it would be like to die, and what happens after death. As I believe I've mentioned before, I've been here on God's grace since I was five years old. I've lived a good twenty plus years past what doctors told my mom I would. And they've been a great twenty-some years. Extraordinary, even. I'd love twenty or forty more, of course, but I'm grateful for what I've had. I just expected that when the time did come that things would be a whole lot different. You know...in the afterlife. I thought maybe there'd be that whole floating on a cloud thing or like that angelic choir, possibly a few harps. Cheesy, I know, but I thought it'd at least be something like that.

But it's not.

Everything is exactly the same. Except for the fact that the only one who can see me is Nick, and that's only because he's dead too. I can't be there to comfort the friends I know need comforting. Except Nick, of course. But the slamming of the windows made it clear that he didn’t want comforting just now.

I pat AJ on his shoulder as I pass by him, heading after Kevin. I shouldn't make him go alone. I glance back and see AJ raise his hand and scratch his shoulder absently for a moment. Then he looks over at Nick's Durango and sighs. "Please be okay..." his whisper floats on the wind after me.

I hurry down the steep trail, catching up to Kevin quickly. His face is a mask of determination. He stops as we near the bottom. He isn't quite ready to go around the last bend to see the body that awaits. For a moment his mask falls away and his fear is evident.

One of the officers notices him lagging behind and stops, turning to watch Kevin sympathetically. Kevin stares at him for a few moments then nods, recovering. The mask is back in place and he starts walking again.

I hesitate, not wanting to go around that last bend either. I already know what waits there, and I'm not sure that I can face it again. But when I hear Kevin making a choked sobbing noise, I know I need to be there for him--even if he doesn't know I'm there. I hurry around the bend in time to see Kevin fall to his knees, staring at the body in the sand a few yards away. I don't look at the body. I've seen it already and don't ever want to see it again. Unless of course it's in a mirror and is looking back at me. I look only at Kevin, who can't tear his eyes away from it.

I move beside him and place a hand on his shoulder. I have to resist the temptation to pull away as I feel the grief radiating from him. "It's okay, Kev. I'm still here," I whisper to him, but he only stares mutely at the body. I look over at the officers who came with him. "Somebody please cover that," I ask them. I can't even refer to it as me anymore. It's not me. I'm here, not there. "Don't make him keep looking at it."

"Can you identify him for us?" one of the officers asks as he approaches.

Kevin nods, his eyes tearing. "Yes.” He takes a deep breath. “He's...my cousin Brian. Brian Littrell."

The officer smiles sympathetically, resting his hand on Kevin's shoulder--not even remotely aware that my hand is right there, too. I'm all too aware of it, though. A strange sensation fills me as his hand melds into mine. It's like his life is flowing through me. I can't really explain it other than I feel like my hand is immersed in water, and it's being soaked up through my fingers and into the rest of my body.

I feel his--Officer Webster, I somehow know his name to be--sympathy amplifying my own. And I feel his strong desire to go call his teenage daughter...Jennifer. He wants to call Jennifer just to make sure she's alive and safe and not lying dead on a beach like this Brian Littrell. Webster hates working homicide nights like tonight. He's hungry and wants to stop for burgers and a big cup of coffee. He wonders how Brian Littrell ended up dead at the bottom of a cliff. He has a strong suspicion that the answer lies with the missing owner of the Durango that sits up top the cliff. When they find him, they'll have their answer. Damn kids.

I pull away quickly, shocked by the sensations flowing through me. I feel dizzy and somewhat nauseous. What the hell just happened? I stare at the officer, slightly angry at the assumption he's made. "It wasn't Nick's fault," I tell him, knowing he can't hear me. I look back at Kevin, who is still staring at the mess. "Kev, stop looking at it. Turn around. Go back up to AJ and Howie. You need them right now." But Kevin, of course, does not respond to me. I turn away, feeling helpless.

"Can you tell us anything about Nickolas Carter?" the officer asks Kevin, ignoring his obvious state of distress. "Anywhere he might have gone? We'll need to talk to him."

They still haven't found Nick's body. I scowl. How blind are they? I turn to look at the ocean. Specifically at the spot where Nick's body had been left.

It isn't there. Nick's body is gone!

I rush to the water's edge, scanning the waters for the missing body. It’s nowhere to be seen. I step into the water and am a little unnerved by the way the water is completely undisturbed by my presence. The water flows into me, much like Officer Webster's life had. I walk farther into the water, awed by the sensation. The beauty of the ocean is filling me. I understand now why Nick loves...loved the water so much. I look back up the beach toward his house and see him looking out of his bedroom window. I know I shouldn’t be able to see him from this distance, yet I can. As clearly as if I were looking at him through binoculars. He gives me a faint smile before stepping away from the window. A few moments later, the curtain closes, blocking my view of him completely.

I turn my attention back to seeking his body. There is no sign of it. I walk a little farther, searching the dark waters, but it's just plain gone. I stare out into the vast ocean for a few moments, silently saying a little prayer for the body contained within the waters. The body will probably wash up on shore when the tide comes in, but...if not, that may be the closest thing Nick gets to a proper burial. Burial at sea. At one time, Nick probably would have appreciated that, but after tonight, I'm not so sure that's the case.

I turn back to where the officer is still trying to question Kevin, who is still staring at the uncovered body.

"For God's sake, somebody cover that!" I yell at them as I move back over to Kevin. But nobody does. Instead, someone is taking photographs of it. From every possible angle. And someone else is sticking little flags in the ground all around the body. They ignore Kevin in his grief, just as Kevin ignores the questions Officer Webster is asking him about Nick.

I try to pull the blanket over the carcass myself, but can't close my fingers on it. If Nick were here, he'd probably be able to do it. After all he'd managed to tie Howie's shoes together.

I turn to look back at Nick's house, wondering how he's doing. Maybe I should go, but I can’t bring myself to leave Kevin. Despite the fact he doesn’t even know I’m here. Besides, it is clear that Nick wants to be alone.

I stay with Kevin until finally, he gets up and starts the trek back to the top of the cliff. I am relieved to get away from the body in the sand. But I can feel that Kevin’s dread is getting worse. He isn’t even able to look at AJ and Howie as he approaches. He doesn’t want to tell them. They already know, though. I don’t think anyone’s actually told them, but they have, I’m sure, heard that there’s a body.

“Is it them?” Howie asks in a subdued voice.

“Let’s go back to the house,” Kevin suggests, not answering the question.

“Oh, God,” AJ closes his eyes. If he didn’t know before, he does now.

“What happened?” Howie asks.

“House.” Is all Kevin can say. It’s clear that he’s trying his best to stay strong and keep himself together. He ducks back into the police car. The other two exchange glances before following him.

I watch as the officer gets back in the car and drives them back up to the house. I’m not sure I want to go. I turn and look back toward the ocean. I shiver involuntarily as I am reminded of the last time I saw this view. I guess I really don’t want to stay here, either.

I start walking back up the cliff’s edge toward Nick’s house.

By the time I get there, the guys are back inside. There are a couple cops still waiting around outside, but for the most part, the action is now down on the beach. I can see that the media has started to arrive, though. Pretty soon the beach will be swarming.

I head into the house.

“--don't know, Howie,” Kevin is saying. “I just know that Brian’s dead. He hates heights. I know he wouldn’t have just gotten too close to the edge and fallen.” Kevin looks tired and angry. “Unless someone forced him.”

He knows then. I knew he’d figure it out.

“But then where is he? Wouldn’t he have called the police or something?” AJ asks. “He wouldn’t just...leave.”

“He got scared,” Kevin countered angrily. “I know he didn’t mean to, but he must have pushed Brian too far.” I suddenly realize what he is thinking. Oh, Kevin, no.

I see a slight movement out of the corner of my eyes and see that Nick is there in the room. Sitting in the corner. Rocking back and forth with his knees tucked up to his chin. He looks ghostly pale (imagine...)

I quickly cross the room to him. “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t worry, he’s just...he’s confused and upset. He doesn’t really think you killed me.”

Nick lets out a bitter laugh. “Yes he does.”

“He got scared and he took off,” Kevin continued ranting. “That’s just like him. Takes off when he doesn’t want to face the consequences of his mistakes."

“I wouldn’t do that!” Nick yells, leaping to his feet. He runs at Kevin, but goes right through him. He looks stunned for a moment, then turns and starts looking for something. “Just get out.” He growls at Kevin.

“Nick, he doesn’t mean it.”

“Yes, he does,” Nick replies angrily. “I could feel it.”

And I know that he’s right. But I know that Kevin wouldn’t normally be this irrational. “He’s just upset and not thinking straight,” I try to defend Kevin as AJ and Howie both are trying to defend Nick.

“Maybe he’s in trouble. I don’t think he would have just left. Even if he...” Howie can’t complete that out loud.

“In trouble? Like...kidnapped you think?” Kevin looks incredulous. “Right. Sure. Good one, Howie,” he snaps. That, really, isn’t that far from the truth, but Kevin is obviously not buying it. “He killed Brian and then ran for it.” He is definitely being irrational.

At this point, so is Nick.

“Get out,” he orders Kevin, who of course cannot hear him. I notice AJ looking distinctly more uneasy, though.

Realizing that voicing his demand is ineffective, Nick picks up Howie’s shoes and flings them at Kevin. “Get out!” he yells. The house’s doors and windows all burst open in unison.

“Holy shit!” AJ squeaks.

“Get out!” Nick yells again as the three just stand there, gaping openmouthed at the scene around them. I try to stop Nick but he reaches out and grabs a glass from the table and hurls it at Kevin, too. “Get out, get out, get out!”

I grab his arms before he can find something else to throw. Unlike the other beings I’ve touched lately, I can’t feel what he’s feeling. I have a pretty good guess, though, anyway.

He pushes me off him and continues grabbing every loose item he can and hurling it at my cousin. “Get out!” Much as I try to stop him, he’s a lot bigger than me, and he’s running on adrenaline (or the ghostly equivalent, I suppose) and easily just pushes me aside. He continues throwing things until the three of them are forced to flee the house.

As soon as they are out, all the doors and windows slam shut again and Nick sinks down against the door, looking completely drained. All the anger is gone and immediately I see the hurt look on his face. “How could he think I’d do that?” he asks.

I tactfully don’t mention the severity of his temper. He usually keeps it in check, but times like just now...“He’s just upset,” I justify Kevin again. “Ya’ll can be irrational when you’re upset,” I added, looking around the room pointedly.

Nick smiles sheepishly and wipes his eyes. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Try not to be too mad at him. He’ll figure it out. And you know him. He’s gonna feel bad that he thought that.” Probably for years. Guilt complexes run in the family.

“Yeah,” Nick agrees. “I know. I didn’t mean to flip out. I...just lost my temper, you know?” Hadn’t noticed. (That is, but the way sarcasm.) Sometimes I swear Nick and Kevin are too alike.

“I know. And you know he doesn’t think you’d hurt me on purpose, right?”

“I guess.” I can tell he doesn’t believe that at all, but decide not to pursue it. “Um, Brian...?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think...” he stops, looking away guiltily.

“Nope never,” I quip. “Nothing up here at all.” I rap the side of my head with my fist.

He cracks a small smile. “No. I didn’t finish.”

I look at him, waiting patiently for him to finish.

“Do you think we’re like...stuck here?”

I don’t have any idea. I wish I could tell him that no, we’d move on. To eternal rest or Heaven or wherever it is that people pass on to. But I can’t tell him that. I don’t want to lie or give him false hope.

“Brian?”

I realize I’ve been quiet too long. “I don’t know, Nick.”

”It’s okay.” He hesitates before asking, “Do you think maybe I could be alone for a bit?”

I glance at him. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I mean...I just need to think...”

“Okay. Yeah. Of course. I’m just going to go...” I don’t have any idea where I’m going to go. What am I supposed to do? But I don’t want to bug him, either. “I’ll be outside.”

“Thanks.”

I head outside, feeling like maybe I shouldn’t leave. I should stay there with Nick. He’s clearly very upset. Unstable, even. I’ve seen his temper flare before, but he’s not the type who usually flies off the handle like that; throwing things and all. Though I suppose since he couldn’t yell at Kevin, it was the only way he had of expressing himself.

I sigh and head outside. The door closes gently behind me, though I know Nick didn’t get up to follow me.

There’s still a cop car sitting in the drive, but the other guys have all gone. I don’t really feel like hanging around outside the house alone, so I head back down to the beach to walk along the shore. Maybe the ocean will relax me. If I can convince Nick to face the waters again, I know he would love the sensation. Though I completely understand if he never wants to even see water again. I’m not so sure I would want to if I’d gone through what he had.

I can’t help but look back down the beach toward the crime scene. I see that the coroner’s team arrives and I watch with morbid fascination as they start their work. One of them kneels beside me and is apparently saying some sort of prayer.

Last rites.

It really happened. I’m really dead. No! I want to run up the beach and tell him to stop. I can’t be dead! This is all a mistake!

“Sorry to tell you, but it’s not a mistake, Boy-o.”

Startled, I whirl around to see a strange man approaching.

Wild is the best word I can come up with to describe him. Everything about him. He is a rather robust man with long fiery red hair and an amazingly shaggy beard. His eyes are wide and intense.

“You...can see me?” is the only thing that comes to mind to even ask at that point.

He chuckles. “Of course I can! How else do ya expect me to get you to your appointment on time?”

“My appointment?” I ask. “What...appointment?” Even when I’m dead I have appointments. Amazing.

“With your therapist!” the man answers, acting as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

I shake my head. “I don’t see a therapist...”

He shakes his head, a wide grin on his face. “You do now, Boy-o.”

“I really don’t think...”

“It’s a requirement for all new LDPs.”

I raise an eyebrow questioningly.

His grin widens, if that’s even possible. “Life Deficient People.”

“Political correctness really has gone too far, hasn’t it...” I mutter. He nods, then shrugs and moves on. Seems he has an attention span much like Nick’s.

“So let’s get you up there for registration and assessment.”

I groan, but start to follow as he turns and heads back the other direction. I stop though, as I catch sight of Nick’s house. “We should go get Nick.”

The guy frowns and looks at me for a moment. “Nick?”

“My friend. He’s dead...er...life deficient, too.” I motion up toward Nick’s house. “I left him up there.”

The guy pulls a little book seemingly out of nowhere and starts flipping through it. “Hmmm. No...nope...ah here we ar--nope read that wrong...nope...” He slams the book shut. “Afraid he’s not on the schedule, yet. Now let’s get going or you’ll be late for your appointment. Ye miss it and it’ll be a long wait in line to get a new one.”

Line. Ugh. Some things never change. But, “I can’t just leave him here. I told him I’d just be outside.” Besides, I’m not so sure that I want to go anywhere with this guy. I don’t know who he is. And I sure don’t want to leave Nick alone down here. He already seems paranoid about that. I know he’s a good person and all, but...he isn’t on this guy’s schedule. That worries me a bit. Plus, I’d much rather have him with me. I don’t want to be alone, either. “He could come with us. It’ll save you a trip back.”

“No can do,” the guy tells me.

I look hesitantly back at the house. “I can’t go without him. He’s my best friend...”

“Don’t worry, Boy-o--"

“Brian,” I finally correct him. I mean ‘Boy-o’? What is up with that?

“I know who you are. I’m Gilroy,” he replies. “Good to meet ya, Brian Littrell. Been a fan for years.” Can things get any stranger? “But don’t worry, Boy-o. This is just registration and assessment. Won’t take too long. You’ll be back.”

“I should at least tell Nick--"

“Sorry, no time. You can tell him all about it when you’re back.”

I know that Nick wants to be alone anyway, so I reluctantly agree.

“Good. Now let’s get going...” he turns and starts walking again. I’m about to ask him where on earth it is that we are going when suddenly a giant golden staircase appears. There goes the whole ‘on earth’ thing. “Right this way, Boy-o.”

That nickname is going to irritate me, but I keep quiet and follow.

It’s a long way up. We seem to keep climbing for hours, but I don’t get at all tired. At last I see the top approaching. Thank God. I blink. I wonder if I’ll be able to do just that. After all I’m dead. God’s probably around somewhere...

We get to the top and I’m a little disappointed to find that it looks much like a doctor’s office waiting room. Complete with magazine racks.

And forms to fill out.

Some things never change.

“Just have a seat there and fill out these forms,” Gilroy instructs me, handing me a small stack of papers and a pen. It’s not even a really neat pen. “I’ve got a schedule to keep, so I’ll be seeing ya. The doc’ll be with you in a few minutes.” He grins sheepishly. “Or hours.”

Have I mentioned that some things never change?

I sink down into one of the chairs, which are actually quite comfortable (now there’s a change at least) and start filling in the information being requested.

It all goes quite well until I get to the last question:

How did you die?

***