Alex hadn't been to the courtyard since the day Baptiste died. He hadn't even tried. He just took the long way around every time, even for his classes in the courtyard's buildings. He knew Ellie and the friends she was planning the vigil with were torn over holding it there, especially since they knew Matthew had been there that morning. But no other place felt appropriate. The dorm wasn't private enough. The chapel was too shabby. Matthew was the one who made the strongest argument for the courtyard.
"It's the nicest place on campus," he had told Ellie during Friday's dinner sides, whatever happened, that's where it happened. We shouldn't run away from that."
Alex understood Matthew's logic, but that didn't stop his stomach from turning as he and Jack approached the courtyard Sunday evening. It was just before sundown, and thankfully a clear night. Alex paused at the courtyard entrance, once the students who had gathered for the vigil were in his sight. They were all gathered around the oak tree in the centre, except for two who were a bit further back from the rest. Alex strained his eyes a bit to see they were Coach Sanders and Dr. Bayer, giving the students room to do this their way.
"You good, Al?" Jack asked, in a way that made it clear he knew the answer wasn't yes.
"Yeah," Alex said. "I mean, no. But yeah."
"That Spanish kid isn't here," Jack noticed.
Alex scanned the students to see if he was right. There were a couple dozen kids there, mostly from their year, but Emilio was not one of them. That goth girl Olena was, though. So was Connor, and the two girls who hung out with him and Warren. Alex also saw Eloise's roommate, Mikayla, and that girl from London who liked films.
And, of course, Matthew was there, his borrowed butterfly guitar slung over his shoulder. Alex hadn't told him he was going to come. He wasn't sure he would until about an hour before. He woke up that morning determined to but changed his mind back and forth at least fifty times. Finally sick of his bullshit, he found Jack at his flat an hour before the vigil was meant to start and told him to make sure he went. Jack agreed, but he seemed a little hesitant about it too. Was it a bad sign if even Jack didn't seem to think going was a good idea?
Matthew was standing next to Ellie and Baptiste's flatmate, Chidi. They were both focused on listening to whatever Chidi was saying, but Matthew must have seen Alex and Jack out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to make eye contact with them across the distance and gave them a small wave. Alex waved back, his heart fluttering a bit.
"This was a bad idea, wasn't it?" Alex mumbled.
"Probably," Jack said.
"Why did you let me do this?"
"I have no idea. I'll be sure to never listen to you again in the future."
"Do you think it's too late to leave?"
Before Jack could answer, Ellie noticed Matthew's wave and followed his line of sight until she saw them too. She said something to Chidi and started to make her way towards them.
"It is now," Jack said before she was in hearing range.
"Hey guys," Ellie said as she approached, her voice soft. She was holding a medium-sized candle in a clear glass holder and held it out toward Alex. "Olena's lighter isn't up to snuff. Mind giving me a light, Alex?"
"Oh. Um. Sure," Alex stuttered out. He carefully held out a finger to the wick, and let it heat up until a small flame manifested on its tip. As soon as the wick was lit, he pulled his finger away and put out the flame by clenching his fist.
"Thanks."
"Of course."
Ellie glanced back at the students by the tree, then at Alex. "Matthew didn't tell you, because he didn't want you to feel pressured, but he was hoping you'd come tonight."
"Really?"
"And I know he never had a chance to say it, but Baptiste thought of you as a friend. At least, he thought of you as someone he'd like to be friends with. If you'd had enough time to get there."
"I... Me too."
Ellie smiled, and its warmth made Alex's anxiety calm down for the first time that day. "Everyone that's here is here because Baptiste was their friend. Right now, that's all we are. Not lower and higher wyverns. Not Conrads or Farrows. Just kids, mourning a friend. I think we can manage that. For one night. Don't you?"
Ellie held out a hand, and Alex took it without even thinking. He panicked for a second, thinking she would take that as a yes. But she seemed to understand he still needed a moment. She just squeezed his hand and waited for him to answer.
"I... I'm not sure," Alex admitted. "But I'm willing to try."
"I guess that's all we can do, huh?" Ellie said. "Ready?"
Alex hesitated for a second longer before nodding. Ellie pulled him closer and looped her arm through his. She glanced at Jack, who was still watching the students by the tree with a strange look in his eyes. "Coming, Jackie?" she said gently.
Jack blinked as if hearing his name snapped him out of a trance. "I'm, uh," he said, his voice tight. "I'm gonna sit this one out. You guys go ahead."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Like you said, it's a night for friends." He looked at them, and right away Alex figured out what he was thinking. Jack was so focused on getting Alex there that he hadn't considered if he wanted to be there. "Good luck, Al. I'll be hanging out behind Cain Hall if you need me."
"... Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Jack."
Jack gave him a nod and backed away, stuffing his hands in his pockets like he didn't quite know what to do with them.
"He didn't have to leave," Ellie said once he was gone.
"He didn't want to intrude," Alex explained. "Plus, I think he wants to keep a lookout. In case anyone malicious comes along. They'll leave if they see him out there."
"That's... sweet."
"Jonathan Farrow. The biggest sweetheart."
Ellie chuckled and gently pulled Alex along toward the oak tree. He thought she would take him to Matthew, but instead, she guided him right to Olena. She was kneeling on the ground, hunched over a candle and struggling with a beat-up silver lighter.
"Fecking piece of garbage," she muttered, looking up when she noticed their shadows pass over her. Alex's eyes widened when he saw that her face was free of makeup for the first time. She somehow looked scarier without it.
"Need a hand, Ollie?" Ellie said. Olena narrowed her eyes.
"I never told you that you could call me that," she said.
"You never said I couldn't."
Olena didn't dispute that. Instead, she ignored Ellie's original question and went back to futilely trying to light her candle. Ellie dropped Alex's arm and nudged his side, gesturing to Olena when he looked at her with scrunched eyebrows. He was about to say that she could just light Olena's candle with her own but stopped when he realized she knew that already. Lighting the candle was not the point.
"Um, may I?" Alex said, crouching down to be at her level. Olena didn't answer right away. She didn't even look up at him. She just kept striking her nonfunctional lighter in silence. Alex glanced back at Ellie, who just nodded in encouragement. Alex let a little flame return to his fingertip again. "Olena?"
Olena stopped striking her lighter and looked up at him. Her brown eyes looked much brighter without her usual dark eyeshadow around them. She was wearing what he assumed was her neutral expression. It at least didn't look angry. Hard to tell, given the last time they spoke was at Ellie's party. That was the only time they had spoken, Alex suddenly realized.
Alex held out his finger toward her, careful not to get too close. He put all his focus into keeping it small as she stared down at it like it was a bug she wasn't sure she should squash. After a couple of seconds that felt like minutes, she picked up her candle and held the wick up to his flame. She pulled it away as soon as it was lit, then immediately shot to her feet and went off to light other kids' candles with it.
"That felt like progress," Eloise said, helping Alex to his feet after he extinguished his flame.
"It did?" Alex said.
"Baby steps, Alex. Baby steps. Come on, maybe we can use you as a lighter for a couple more candles before we start."
Ellie took Alex around as everyone was still getting ready, though she was the one who lit any remaining candles. Some of the kids he had met before were surprised but glad to see him, like Mikayla and the girl from London named Stephanie. Connor was too, but the girls Maya and Roxanne didn't seem to know what to make of him. Most of the kids he had never met were like that. Wary but not hostile. Not outwardly, at least.
Alex didn't get to talk to Matthew until right before the vigil started. Eloise was gathering everyone up when Alex felt a nudge on his shoulder. He turned to see Matthew, the guitar now in his hands.
"You came," he said.
"I did," Alex said. "I almost didn't. I changed my mind a million times."
"I figured you were overthinking it. You do that a lot, don't you?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I'm glad you landed where you did," Matthew said, bouncing on his toes with a slightly nervous energy. "Do you... want to sit next to me?"
"Yeah," Alex said, his chest warming a bit. "Of course."
The two joined everyone by the base of the oak tree, taking seats on the lawn blankets some students had arranged in a circle. Matthew sat on the right edge of one and Alex took a seat on the left edge of it, leaving a decent amount of space between them. He was forced closer when Eloise lightly shoved him so she could fit on the same blanket next to him.
Alex wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting that night. He had never been to a vigil before. He had technically been to one funeral. His maternal grandmother's, when he was four years old. He didn't remember much beyond his father keeping him discreetly entertained during the service. It was a formal and stuffy affair. Every word spoken was nothing but simple platitudes. Things you say when someone dies because someone died, not because you mean them.
The atmosphere at the vigil was immediately different. It was a lot more painful. Mismatched blankets and candles scraped together by children so they could hold an impromptu service for their friend. A task that fell to them because most of the adults refused to step up. But it was also a lot more comforting than his grandmother's funeral had been, strangely. It was awkward but genuine. Like Eloise said, they were just kids in mourning. It was the first time most of them had lost someone to death. They had no idea what they should do, but maybe that was okay. There was no stiff format, no script to follow. So, they would just sit. And cry. And talk. And listen.
Eloise was the first to speak, probably in the hopes that it would encourage the others to follow. She talked about the first time she met Baptiste when he helped her and Matthew as they were moving stuff into her dorm. How the boys spent more time poking fun at her fashion style and eating her snacks than helping. She had been crying pretty much the whole time she spoke, but she had to stop when her throat got too tight to go on.
Chidi was the first to take over for her. He was the only other student from France among the scholarship kids. He was a year below them. He and Baptiste met just before they came to Conrad since the school arranged for them to be on the same flight from Paris to London. They didn't get along much at first. Baptiste was intimidated by Chidi since he was from Paris while Baptiste had never been outside his rural town. So Chidi thought Baptiste was a bit standoffish as a result. They didn't break down that wall until that first week when Baptiste was feeling the negative effects of his powers. Chidi noticed he was ill but didn't know why, so he used their flat's tiny kitchen and borrowed ingredients from the dining hall to make him navarin. Since then, they'd been making slow but steady progress to being friends. Chidi had to stop talking when he couldn't speak through his tears either.
They went on like that for a while, someone in the group picking up once whoever spoke last couldn't go on anymore. Most of them talked about the first time they met Baptiste. Some of them had only ever met him once, which alleviated that lingering feeling of being an intruder that Alex hadn't been able to shake at first. Not everyone spoke. About a third of them just listened. Olena never spoke, but she was crying and comforting an Irish girl who was the youngest one there. Connor didn't either, but Maya and Roxanne did. They both had Spanish class with Baptiste, and they talked for a minute about how he would entertain himself in class. Watching the campus pigeons through the window or making paper animals out of the pages of his notebook. They both had kept some paper cats he made for them.
Alex noticed as everyone spoke a common theme was arising. More time. They all wanted more time. They were mourning the boy they had met, but they were also mourning the boy they wouldn't. The time lost. The relationship was cut short. That was the first thing that made tears well up in Alex's eyes. The realization that even though Baptiste only had a few moments with these people, was enough for his departure to leave such an impact. Only a few days or weeks with him was enough for everyone there to realize that someone truly spectacular had been lost.
One of the last kids who spoke was Stephanie, who talked about how she was going to try to find some French films Baptiste recommended the next time she went to the video rental shop in Brighton. A heavy silence followed her last words, as everyone looked around to see if anyone else would speak. Alex worried for a second that they would all get stuck like that until Matthew cleared his throat next to him. Of course. He hadn't spoken yet.
"I'm, uh," he said, his voice unsure. It was a strange tone to hear from him. "I'm not usually the best at this sort of stuff. I'm an emotionally constipated sarcastic piece of shit, so genuine moments of vulnerability are kind of a weak spot for me." He glanced at Alex with a small smile. "Some of you have probably already noticed that. Baptiste did too. He called me out on it a lot. It was pretty annoying. But, also nice. Knowing someone who could see stuff like that about you and still want to stick around. Who pushed you to be better but who could take you at your worst, too. He... He went through a lot of rough stuff in his life, but he still had a better heart than almost anyone I've ever met. At first, I thought it was naiveté. But now I know it was bravery. I mean, to have gone through what he did and still have hope in the world... In stupid sarcastic shits like me... Yeah, he was pretty fucking brave."
Matthew paused and looked around at the circle, waiting to see if anyone else wanted to speak. Alex couldn't believe he had managed to say all that without crying. He was sobbing now. He couldn't speak even if he had the nerve to. Alex pulled up his knees to his chest and pretended not to notice Matthew's gaze linger on him.
When it was clear everyone was done speaking, Matthew plucked at his guitar and tuned it one last time. "I asked Baptiste what his favourite song was once," he said as he plucked at the strings. "He said he would only tell me if I guessed. I never managed it, but luckily, he told Ellie when she asked. I think he liked her more than me." Ellie let out a tear-soaked chuckle and buried her head in Alex's shoulder. "I hope you don't mind that she shared your secret, man. It's a good choice, though. Suits you."
Once the guitar was tuned, Matthew started playing that same melody he had been practising the day before. Soft. Slow. A little sad. A little hopeful. When he practiced Matthew had only played the melody. Alex wasn't even sure the song had lyrics. And he remembered Matthew's half-serious joke about his voice not being very good. So, he was more than a little surprised when Matthew started singing.
Alex understood why Matthew didn't think he was good. His voice shook and cracked. It dipped and peaked in spots it probably wasn't meant to. It didn't help that he was audibly holding back tears, making his voice tighter than it should have been. But Alex didn't agree with Matthew's judgement, because there was also something hard to describe about it. Something that made it sound better than any highly trained professional could manage. It was unrefined, and that's part of what made it beautiful.
To Alex, anyway.
After the first few verses he reached a hook, and Connor was the first to join in singing. Matthew smiled and quieted his voice, letting Connor take the lead. He was objectively better, but Matthew's voice still sounded nicer to Alex. A couple more kids joined in on the third verse, and about half of them were singing by the time the hook rolled around again.
Alex silently cursed that he was so out of the loop that he didn't know the words. Since he couldn't join, he focused intensely on the lyrics as he watched Matthew's hands dance up and down the guitar. He got why Matthew thought it was a fitting song for Baptiste. Matthew's delivery had been emotionally charged the whole time, but Alex noticed it was particularly heightened in the last verse.
"In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade," he sang, his voice shaking harder than before. "And he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him till he cried out. In his anger and his shame 'I am leaving, I am leaving'. But the fighter remains."
The hook rolled around one more time, and almost everyone was singing by then, but that's when Matthew stopped. He kept playing, though. Through sobs that wracked his body so hard Alex couldn't believe he was keeping hold of the guitar. Alex closed his eyes and turned away from him, feeling a tight ball of heat forming in his chest. Not here, he begged his own body, burying his head in his knees. Not now. Please.
He tried to reign in his powers with that memory of his father, but the image wasn't coming to mind. Instead, he saw Baptiste. Those memories of him had come to mind as he listened to everyone else but he had been too scared to share. The first time they met, that spot near Elizabeth Hall, not that far from where they were. His laugh was a window into that heart Matthew had talked about. The way he defended Alex when Matthew was being judgmental, despite only knowing him for a few minutes. How he and Eloise felt the need to check on him the first day of classes. How he tried to get Alex to understand he didn't need to be a doormat to get through to Matthew. That brief moment on the walk from Dr. Bayer's office when Alex was able to feel like he was helping him. How in their last interaction Baptiste was still thinking about his well-being. That conversation Alex still felt bad about overhearing. Baptiste's excitement for the future despite the pain he was going through. The most painful thing about all those memories was how few there were.
More time. He deserved more time.
Alex suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. He didn't realize until then that he was shaking. He picked his head up to see Matthew looking at him in concern. He wasn't playing anymore. The song was over. The air was quiet. Alex glanced around to see everyone except Ellie was looking at him with wary eyes. She had the same look of concern Matthew did. Coach Sanders and Dr. Bayer, who had been at a fair distance the whole time, were much closer now. Alex couldn't figure out why until he noticed it was much darker than it had been only a few minutes ago. All the candles he had helped light had been their only source of light once the sun went down, and they had all been suddenly extinguished.
"I..." Alex breathed out, looking at the candles. "Did I..."
"It's okay, Alex," Matthew said before he could apologize. "You just put them out."
"Right as the song finished," Ellie added, wiping her nose. "It was kind of poetic."
"I... sorry. I didn't... mean to."
"That's comforting," he heard Olena mutter.
Matthew shot her a look, but before he could say anything, Dr. Bayer approached the group. Even from a distance, Alex could see her eyes were shining.
"It's getting late," she said gently. "We should make sure you all have enough time to get rest for your classes tomorrow."
Everyone responded by slowly rising to their feet, gathering up the lawn blankets and now flameless candles. Ellie gave Alex a quick squeeze on his shoulder before using him as leverage to get up. As Matthew helped Alex to his feet, he saw Olena approaching them out of the corner of his eye. She didn't say anything right away, just wordlessly pointed to the guitar in Matthew's hand. It took them all a couple of seconds to realize what she was saying.
"This is yours?" Matthew said, a bit of a smug smile creeping onto his lips. Ellie brought a hand up to her mouth to suppress a giggle. "Really?"
"I put the stickers on when I was six," Olena said automatically as if it was a rehearsed excuse. "Just give it here, Montoya."
Matthew bit his tongue to keep himself from laughing and handed it over. Olena took it more forcefully than she needed to. Alex expected her to leave right away, but she didn't. She just shifted her weight on her feet before looking right at Alex.
"Thanks for the light, Conrad," she said, sounding slightly pained. Alex couldn't be sure if it was because she was sore from crying or from gratitude. "Maybe I'll come find you next time I need a fag."
Alex noticed Matthew stiffen and his eyes widened. "I'm sorry, a what?" he said, his voice jumping up a pitch. Alex shot out a hand to his shoulder.
"It means cigarette," he explained quickly.
"Why?"
Olena shook her head and spun around, muttering "Fecking Americans," as she left.
"Now that," Ellie said once she was gone, "was progress."
"No really, guys," Matthew insisted. "Why on earth do you call them that?"
"Alex, do you think you could go get Jack to help us take some of this stuff back to McAvoy?"
"Sure," Alex said, leaving them as Matthew continued to express bewilderment over their choice of slang word. He found Jack exactly where he said he would be, sitting on the ledge of a planter box behind Cain Hall. Alex paused when he saw his friend's expression. It was one he had never seen Jack wear before. It was too serious. Too contemplative. It melted away when he noticed Alex approaching.
"Hey," he said, without getting up. "Everything good?"
"Yeah," Alex said, noticing that his voice was still shaking. "We just finished. Ellie was wondering if you could help take some stuff back to their dorm."
"Sure," Jack said, rising to his feet and stretching out his limbs. "You, um... good?"
"I'm... I'm better than I was when we got here, I think," Alex said as they walked back towards the others.
"I'd call that a win."
"I felt like an intruder, at first. But some of the kids there spent even less time with him than I did... Jack?"
"Hm?"
"Baptiste didn't kill himself," Alex said, and as soon as he heard it, he knew it was true. "I know I didn't know him that well, and sometimes it's hard to tell when-"
"I think you're right, Alex," Jack interrupted. "And I don't buy it was an accident either."
"Then that means-"
"Yeah."
"What... what are we going to do?"
"What can we do? We're not detectives, Al."
"My dad saw it," Alex said, for the first time to another person. "Those phone calls I told you about last week. He finally spoke to me. It was his ramblings, so it made no sense, but I think he was trying to tell me Baptiste was going to die. And... I think he saw someone else die too."
Jack stopped in his tracks. "What?"
"A girl."
Jack's eyes snapped to Ellie, who was still at a distance and folding up blankets. "You haven't told anyone else this, have you?"
"No. I wanted to, though. I still do, but... It's selfish, but I don't want to have to explain to my dad."
"You don't need to feel guilty about that, Alex."
"I already didn't help Baptiste in time. And-"
"Hey," Jack said, putting a hand on Alex's shoulder. "Don't you dare blame yourself for that? You did not kill him. And if whoever did is planning on doing it again... Well, we just have to look out for each other."
"We can't protect a hundred kids at once, Jack."
"I mean, let's say you do tell them you think there's a serial killer on campus because your dad had a vision. Then what? They're even more scared. We're all even more fractured. Your uncle is even more pissed. At you, specifically. Plus, that Spanish kid has been crying murder all week and it hasn't done any good."
"Emilio has no proof."
"Neither do you."
"But my dad-"
"Doesn't know what his visions mean most of the time either," Jack snapped, so harshly that Alex flinched. A wash of guilt passed over Jack's face as he sighed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to... It's just that this isn't on you, Alex. And I just... I don't want to see you get hurt."
Alex looked over at the oak tree. At Ellie and Matthew and all the other kids he had spent the last hour mourning with. "And I don't want to do that again," he whispered, his father's words crawling down his neck again.
He's dead and they'll do nothing! They'll lie, to save themselves, and then she'll die too. And the bit that had made him so afraid that Friday morning. Jonathan! Where is Jonathan? He needs to go home, it's not safe! He looked back at Jack. Sixteen with his whole life ahead of him. He thought about sitting in a circle and lighting candles in his honour, listening to and telling stories about him because that was the only way to keep him alive anymore. Something a lot stronger than grief rose in his throat.
"I can't do that again," he got out through fresh tears. Not for you, he added in his thoughts. Especially not for you.
He started shaking again, and Jack pulled him in for a hug. Like the one, he had greeted him within the infirmary. "Okay," Jack said as Alex buried his head in his shoulder. "Okay. We'll... We'll figure something out. Band together like our own fucked up little Scooby Gang."
"Like what?"
"Christ, Al, buy a TV."
Alex let out a chuckle and pulled away from him, wiping away enough tears and snot so he could see. "Matthew started writing a list," he said. "Of all the pop culture things I don't understand. I'll tell him to add that to it."
"Really?" Jack said, slinging an arm around his shoulder and leading him back over to the others. "Hey, Montoya! Let me see that list! I got like, seven years' worth of shit to add to it."
"If it's coming from your tastes then it probably is shit, Farrow," Matthew called back, earning a smack from Ellie.
No idea what the hell a Scooby is, AJ said, speaking up for the first time that day, but we are very fucked up indeed.
What's fucked up is you were supposed to leave me alone for a week, Alex thought back as Jack and Matthew continued to bicker.
I'm a much better liar than you, mate. I'll have to teach you sometime. If you're going to be playing detective, then a bit of deception will do you some good.