For Pops.
Henrik’s body was cold, when Drew returned. The blood had dried, matting his hair and clothes to the ground, but he was still so easy to lift -- too easy. Drew was silent. Crying. He had wanted to come alone, but he was regretting not having Marvin with him at the very least, as the car was the only noise. Henrik was laying in the back seat.
He wished Henrik was only sleeping.
Numbness was the only thing that kept him going. He couldnt get to the crematorium fast enough. The car rolled up, and the silence as soon as the engine shut off was deafening. The seat-belt clicked, the driver door opened and closed, the back door opened, closing after a second.
There were soft sniffles coming from Drew, the clouds rolling overhead. A distant part of Drew was grateful that the sun wasn’t shining; it was fitting that the sky was mourning too. The door to the building opened, the man not speaking as Drew passed by. Their footsteps down the concrete hall was the only sound for a few moments, Drew refraining from sniffling in front of this stranger.
In the room, though, the man broke the silence. “Set him-” a loud, squeaky sound filled the room, Drew flinching slightly, “-down here.” The metal tray-like table was cold on Drew’s arms as he followed the man’s directions.
The table was pushed back into the cubby, the door closing sounding loud and final. Drew couldnt look away from where he last saw Henrik’s face. The man was asking him something, muffled and distant.
He placed a hand on Drew’s shoulder, lowering his voice, “Who was he to you? Can you tell me?”
Drew blinked once, his head turning to him but his eyes not moving. He was.. Quiet, “he was my father.” There was no hesitation, no “in everything but blood,” no justification. Henrik was his father. The man’s gentle grip tightened slightly, comfortingly.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” he paused, not commenting as Drew’s eyes welled up with tears again. “Do you want to be the one to do it?” Drew shook his head once, the man nodding and stepping away. There was silence again, for a moment, before the furnace turned on with a roar.
It burned for a while, Drew losing track of time as he remembered every moment he spent with Henrik. He was fighting to not regret any of it. Every moment had been a gift, and he.. He had to remember that. He would remember every smile. He was saving every picture he ever took, no matter how blurry or stupid they looked. He would never forget.
The man returned to the room once the furnace had shut off, and after an eternity, a metal box was held out to him. Drew’s hands shook as he took it. If the man spoke, Drew didn’t hear it. He left after a few minutes of silence, so Drew pushed himself up to his feet (when had he slid down the wall to begin with?). The building’s door opened with a loud squeak, shutting behind him with a clang. It was all.. Too fucking loud. The box was held tightly to his chest as he sat in the driver’s seat, Drew doubling over to cling to it as the tears came rushing back. He couldnt fucking do this…
Soft sobs shook his body, but Drew couldnt make a sound anymore, his throat dried out from the crying. Soon, his tear ducts ran dry too, and he could only stare at the steering wheel in numb shock. He started driving back to the base.
And within a blink, he was back. He was grateful that very few people were on the road these days; he couldnt remember how he had driven home, and the thought of endangering other people sent a pang through his chest.
Marvin greeted him when he got back, along with Robin and Rosa and Jameson. Drew forced a smile, acting as though he didnt have tear tracks running down his face. As though he wasnt holding Henrik’s ashes. As though his heart wasnt aching.
Rosa’s voice was soft and quiet, gentle like her, when she spoke. She had been crying too. “I found a more fitting container. Not fragile, but.. Pretty, nice. I think he wouldve liked it better than…” she trailed off with a small gesture to the plain grey box clutched to Drew’s chest. His hands shook, he held the box tighter, but he nodded anyway. He wouldnt let go just yet.
He couldnt.
Marvin’s hand found his shoulder, resting softly against him. For once, Drew didn’t mind the delicacy everyone was treating him with. He slowly realized, as the four led him back inside the base, to the meeting room where Rosa had laid out an ornate wooden box, that he would still have a family here.
That just because he lost his father, he didn’t have to lose everything. He would finish this fight and find peace, live his life happily with Marvin. For pops.