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A crater.
Two grenades.
Sheer luck.
The queen is dead.
They are not.
While not dead, different.
A spell is reversed and recast, Kian stone reforms. The boat turns and flees. Rand aims well, Rachel is well and truly gone. But it is over. And they are alive.
“Rand! Come on, man. We’ve gotta fuckin’ go!” It is Kian, covered in his own blood, peering over the side of the boat as it returns to pick him up.
He boards the boat wordlessly. Apart from that initial call, none of them say a word; aware of the wreck of a town they now have to pick back up from the ground.
“Tim?”
It hits him like a lightning strike to the core, and he nearly capsizes the boat as he whips around. It is Rachel. Sitting in the corpse of the queen, exactly the same as she always did. Same star trek shirt, same oversized glasses.
“Don’t leave me, Tim. please.”
“I won't, kid.” he says to her, “Rolan, turn around. We’ve gotta go back for her.”
“Are you fucking insane? She’s not her, Rand.” Rolan responds.
“Maybe I am insane. Turn around.”
“It’s your funeral, man..” he says under his breath, but he turns it around. And they float back through the bayou to her. The moonlight highlights the tears and blood on her face, big eyes looking at her brother.
“I’ve got you, I promise.” Rand says to her, extending a hand, which she takes.
Now they sit side by side, it’s easy to see the relation. The same heavy brown hair, set brown eyes, and a shakiness that isn't always present. Though one from the cold and fear, and the other from withdrawal.
The boat slices through the thick bayou sludge, the canyon they leave in the muck filled slowly. Rand wraps his arm around his sister tightly, now that she is here he won’t let her go that easily. Eventually, the docks reveal themselves again, and they are back on solid ground.
“What the fuck do we do now?”
They start with the community house, knocking and telling those who survived that it’s over. And it occurs to them they have to tell Rand’s parents about Rachel, ultimately, it’s gonna shock them to hell and back, so just tell them straight up.
It is Rand who does it. He straightens his back and opens the door, Rachel at his heels; and the pair are met with a sobbing Donna Rand and a huge that could crush bones.
“Thank God! I thought we lost you both.. Rachel, I thought you were dead, they told us you were..”
“I’m ok, Mama. I’m here now.”
It takes a while for them to adjust, but they do. The Rands are whole once more.
Rolan does not go back to Chicago, he gives his real parents a real funeral, and helps out with small little cases in Galloway, speeding tickets (mostly kian’s) and the like. And he smiles. He walks with his head held high through the streets when they are clean, and he knows that he never left, but it’s okay. There's plenty right here.
As for Kian? He does not go back to LA, either. He stays right here, teaching music every now and then at the high school and is reminded of himself. When a girl talks to him and has to same fire behind their eyes as he did, it makes him grin when he speaks to her; he sets them up with every chance of success.
“What’s your name, kid? So i can say i knew you before you were famous.”
“Becky.”
It hits him like a ton of bricks, but he beams at her as she heaves her guitar over her shoulder and walks away with the biggest toothy smile plastered across her little face. It is enough for him to pick up his own guitar again. For a while, all there is is clicks. But then, a chord, a lyric, a melody. And for once he is inspired. And Kian Stone writes a song, what does he call it? Well, only what he promised he would: Smoke with the devil.
The first spring after the incident is a welcomed one, as the frosts felt like an icy tomb, encasing Galloway.
“Lets make that trip to Arizona, hey? Finish our campaign.”
The four of them, now, as Rachel insists she is old enough to play, pile into Kian’s new car, and make their way to the deserts. To a brighter future, for all of them.