Chapter Text
Nathan’s Pov : The Mission
Jake had known better; he had given the order for them to board the Blade ship and eliminate Tom and his Yeerk. It was a strategic move, one that probably weighed heavily on his conscience.
Tom, now piloting the Blade ship, was heading directly toward the Pool ship, determined to destroy it and eradicate Visser One alongside the rest of the Animorphs.
Inside the confines of the Blade ship, I felt the heat of the moment rise as Jake's words sunk in. Rachel and I had morphed into fleas at his request, unnoticed as we clung to Tom’s body. We followed him, our tiny forms hidden in the folds of his clothing.
I couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at my gut. The Yeerks had made their home here, and the atmosphere was thick with their presence. It was a twisted kind of infiltration, like hunting prey from the shadows.
When the time came, Rachel and I demorphed into our bear forms—she as a grizzly, I as a black bear. The sudden shift in scale was jarring, the adrenaline coursing through my veins as we charged into battle against Tom and his five morph-capable followers.
As we charged into the fray, the chaos erupted. The other Animorphs and Esplin 9466, Visser One, observed the battle unfold from the Pool ship’s computer, tension coursing through them like electricity.
Rachel swung her massive paw, connecting with one of Tom’s comrades who had morphed into a lion. The fight was intense, a cacophony of growls and snarls as we took on the opposition. I tackled another foe, a buffalo, with a ferocious roar, feeling the adrenaline surge through me.
Yet as brutal as they were, the Controllers were prepared. Rachel landed a blow on the lion, only to be charged by the buffalo-morphed Controller, who barreled into her, knocking her off balance. She tried to rise, but a crushing weight bore down on her: the polar bear Controller, whose jaws locked around her shoulder, tearing into her flesh. With a roar of pain, Rachel threw him off, though blood matted her fur.
The cobra-morphed Tom struck, snapping venomous fangs near Nathan’s face, forcing him back. Nathan swung a paw toward Tom, but the cobra darted away, positioning itself strategically while the gazelle-morphed Controller attempted to circle around, waiting for an opening.
Rachel’s vision blurred as another swipe of claws from the polar bear raked across her face, sending her staggering backward. Despite the pain, she continued to press on, roaring and forcing her way through them. With a surge of strength, she managed to land a decisive bite into the throat of the gazelle-morphed Controller, who let out a strangled cry before collapsing. She staggered forward, leaving a trail of her own blood, moving toward her real target. Tom.
Nathan attempted to hold off the lion-morphed Controller, but even he could see that they were both being worn down. The odds were stacked heavily against them. He watched as Rachel charged, her injured body showing every sign of wear, yet her determination undiminished. She bulldozed her way through, taking down one more Controller—the one in lion morph—before she finally reached Tom.
With all her remaining strength, Rachel bore down on the cobra with a sickening crunch, her teeth sinking into the creature, silencing both Tom and his Yeerk forever. But as she looked up at the viewing screen, noticing the other Animorphs watching her, her battered form began to give out. Her voice reached them, a soft declaration of love and finality.
In that moment, before the Controllers around her could move, she collapsed. The polar bear-morphed Controller was upon her in an instant, bringing his full weight down with a brutal swipe, ensuring that Rachel would not rise again. She’d done what she came to do, but the cost was her life.
Nathan barely had a moment to process Rachel’s final stand. Blood matted his fur, wounds already aching as he struggled to keep himself upright, his black bear form feeling heavier with each breath. Around him, the remaining Controllers regrouped, their eyes filled with determination and a hunger for revenge. They’d lost their leader, Tom, but they weren’t about to let Nathan escape.
He charged, aiming for the polar bear—the one who’d dealt the final blow to Rachel—hoping to at least take him down. But a sudden blow struck his side; the buffalo-morphed Controller rammed into him with full force, sending him sprawling. Pain exploded through his ribs, making it hard to breathe. He staggered up, swiping blindly, but the lion-morphed Controller was on him, jaws snapping at his shoulder and digging in. Nathan roared, thrashing wildly, and managed to break free, but not without leaving a trail of blood behind.
Nathan’s vision blurred as he saw the remaining Controllers circle him, his form slipping from exhaustion and blood loss. Agony shot up his body, forcing him down his strength faltering.
In desperation, Nathan forced himself to demorph, his body shrinking and reshaping into his human form. But his bare, vulnerable form only made him an easier target. He barely had a moment to breathe before they surrounded him again, their morphs towering over him, blocking out any chance of escape.
The polar bear Controller lunged, his claws catching Nathan in the side, lifting him clear off the ground and slamming him into the wall. He crumpled, gasping, his vision fading as the taste of blood filled his mouth. He tried to morph again, reaching deep into his mind for something—anything—that could give him a chance.
Through sheer force of will, Nathan managed to force himself into a crocodile morph, his body elongating, scales hardening over his skin. But before he could even think of using his jaws, the Controllers seized him, dragging him toward the airlock. He snapped and thrashed, but his injuries were too severe, and the crocodile’s strength faded with each second.
Without a word, they heaved him into the airlock and sealed it.He clawed against the door, gasping as he felt the air grow thin. And then, with a shudder, he was ejected into the void of space, his body spinning as darkness overtook him. In the vacuum, he clamped his jaws shut, holding his breath as long as he could, feeling the last of his energy slip away. His last thought was of Rachel, of her courage and her sacrifice, and there he was alone in the void.
The Blade ship jettisoned Rachel’s lifeless body into the cold abyss of space. Nathan felt as if the universe had cracked open and swallowed a piece of his soul. He fought to hold his breath in his crocodile morph, knowing they were about to be ejected from the ship, but he couldn’t shake the vision of Rachel’s fierce spirit and her final words.before he finally lost consciousness alone in the cold, unfeeling void of space.
-----
The silence hung thick in the control room of the Pool ship. The Animorphs—Jake, Marco, Cassie, and Ax—stood, each grappling with the reality of Rachel’s death. Her final act had been to stop Tom, to save them all, but the cost was staggering. Jake's jaw clenched as he looked away, his grief and guilt simmering just below the surface. Cassie had a hand to her mouth, her eyes red and brimming with tears. Marco looked hollow, stunned by the friend they’d lost and by the brutality of the last moments they’d witnessed. Ax stood a little apart, his Andalite tail low in grief, his main eyes downcast as his stalk-eyes scanned the room, watching his human friends process this unthinkable loss. Then, Jake’s attention snapped back. Nathan was out there—floating in the void after being ejected from the Blade ship. His heart hammered. He had lost one friend; he couldn't lose another. “Erek, can you do anything?” Jake's voice was tight, laced with a desperation he hadn’t intended to show. He clenched his fists, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him.
Erek, the Chee, stepped forward, his mechanical features reflecting the dim light of the control panel. “I may not have teleportation abilities, but I can navigate the ship's systems to open an airlock. I’ll have to physically go outside.”
“Then do it!” Marco’s voice cracked as he urged, his usual bravado gone. “We can’t… we can’t lose him too.”
Erek moved swiftly, reaching the airlock and sealing himself inside. He activated his internal systems, retracting some parts of his android frame to make himself more aerodynamic, and launched himself into space.
The others watched from the control room’s viewing screen as Erek propelled himself toward Nathan. Cassie squeezed her hands together, the tension twisting her stomach. She didn’t speak, her mind racing with thoughts of Rachel, of Nathan, of everything that had led them here.
Ax adjusted his stance, his tail twitching as he processed the gravity of the loss—and the potential loss to come.
< This battle has claimed much, Prince Jake. >
Jake’s hand rested on the console as he followed Erek’s progress. “I know, Ax,” he said, his voice rough. “We need him back. We need every one of us back.”
When he reached Nathan, Erek quickly assessed the situation. Nathan had demorphed into his human form, but his body floated lifelessly in the vacuum of space his face pale. Erek wrapped his arms around Nathan, securing him tightly. “Hang on, Nathan,” he said, though he knew Nathan couldn’t hear him.
Erek may hate Jake for forcing him to help them and flushing the Yeerks. But he had watched these kids fight, sacrifice, and struggle. If there was any life left in Nathan, Erek was determined to save it.
He didn't deserve to die like this.
Inside, Jake’s fingers tapped anxiously on the control panel, his eyes fixed on the scene unfolding outside. The sight of Nathan drifting lifelessly, cradled in Erek’s arms, twisted something deep inside him.
Cassie’s fingers dug into Marco’s arm as she held her breath. “Please…” she whispered, her heart aching. “Please, Erek.”
Erek finally managed to secure Nathan and turned back toward the ship. Each movement was calculated; he propelled them with measured precision, using what resources he had to maintain control.
Jake clenched his fists, every second stretching into an agonizing eternity.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Erek reached the airlock with Nathan in tow. He activated the door, pushing through just as it sealed behind them, and heaved Nathan’s unconscious body onto the floor of the ship.
Once they were safely inside, Erek quickly moved to Nathan’s side, placing his hands on his chest and activating a built-in system designed to help restore life functions in emergencies. A soft pulse emanated from Erek's hands, a signal that would stimulate Nathan’s breathing.
Slowly, Nathan’s eyes fluttered open, panic flashing across his face. He gasped, taking in precious air as he coughed and sputtered. “What… what happened?” he managed, his voice hoarse and shaky.
“You’re safe now,” Erek reassured him, relief flooding through him. “I’ve got you. We need to regroup.”
Nathan shook his head, the reality of Rachel’s death hitting him hard. “I tried to save her, but…”
Jake sat back on his heels, running a hand through his hair, the weight of grief settling heavily on his shoulders. “We lost her...”
Tobias closed his eyes puffy and red. He looked like he hadn’t believed Rachel was gone. A desperate part of him want- 𝗻𝗼 needed to believe that Rachel was alive.
But my answer confirmed it.
Cassie came closer, her face reflecting the pain of their loss. She wanted to say something comforting, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she knelt beside them, her presence a silent testament to the grief they all felt.
Marco stood back, his face hardened, yet his hands trembled. “She went down fighting. That’s what she would’ve wanted.” His voice wavered, the reality cracking his usual mask. “Rachel wouldn’t want us to fall apart… not now.”
Tobias didn't respond.
I couldn’t blame him.
Ax moved forward, his main eyes fixed on Nathan.< Nathan-Human, you fought with bravery, as did Rachel. >
His voice held the solemnity, a small gesture of respect for a fallen comrade. < Her spirit is now beyond the reach of our enemies. >
Nathan swallowed, still processing everything, and then slowly nodded. He glanced at each of them, his expression a mix of pain, gratitude, and resolve.
Jake stepped forward, dropping to his knees beside Nathan, one hand resting on his shoulder. He met Nathan’s eyes, his own filled with sorrow. “We lost her, Nathan. But she… she did what she had to and you too Nathan.”
---
We’d fought for 3 years, and it was over in a matter of hours. Rachel was gone, and the Pool ship felt more like a grave than a victory. I kept replaying her last moments, her fierce, unyielding determination to finish the job. I’d fought beside her, done everything I could to keep her safe, but in the end, nothing could stop her from doing what she knew needed to be done. She had known, somehow, about the Ellimist. She’d realized that everything, from our first meeting with Elfangor, had been his game.
And in the end, she’d given herself for it.
The silence after her death was overwhelming. The Controllers had surrendered—Esplin 9466 among them. The infamous Visser One, the creature responsible for so much pain, left his host, Alloran-Semitur-Corrass, after years of control. Alloran, finally free, could barely stand. The weight of years under the Yeerk, the horror of what his own body had been forced to do—it was all etched into his face. He was a warrior who had been held captive in his own skin, and seeing him now, I couldn’t imagine what that was like. But he wasn’t the only one who would be left with scars.
The Controllers had laid down their arms and agreed to release their hosts under a strange condition: Kandrona rays and morphing powers. They were desperate to survive and had sworn to become nothlits if we let them go. Maybe they wanted a shot at life outside of slavery and bloodshed. It was an idea that, on some level, I could understand. But after everything we’d lost, everything Rachel had sacrificed, I wasn’t in a forgiving mood. Not yet.
Ax took over the Pool ship’s communications, reaching out to the Andalite fleet. He was composed, steady as he told them that the Yeerk forces on Earth had surrendered. Ax was speaking to our allies, but he knew better than anyone how shaky that alliance was. Captain Prince Asculan-Semitur-Langor sounded furious, demanding immediate action, his words teetering on threats. I knew what the Andalites would do if they had the chance—they’d wipe Earth clean just to ensure the Yeerks were gone for good. Ax knew it, too, and he didn’t hesitate. Before Asculan could respond, Marco announced over the comms that the transmission was live, broadcast across the Andalite homeworld. The civilians were listening.
There was a pause, and in that silence, I could almost feel Asculan’s fury turning to calculation. He’d been backed into a corner.
Ax suggested that we disable the Pool ship’s engines and weapons and turn it over to the Andalite fleet. He spoke with a calm authority that was new, one that reminded me just how much he’d grown. He wasn’t an aristh anymore. The fleet promoted him on the spot—Prince Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill. They gave him control of four morphing cubes, to do with as he saw fit.
We’d won the war. Or rather, the war was ending. The Andalite-Yeerk War, the Human-Yeerk War—three long years of blood and sacrifice, and it was over. Esplin was defeated, the resisting Yeerk forces eliminated. The rest of the Yeerks who had surrendered would face trial, though what their sentences would be, I didn’t know. And I didn’t care.
The Yeerks of the peace movement had been given options—other choices that I didn’t fully understand, and I didn’t have the energy to ask. Right now, I just wanted to close my eyes and forget. But the silence, that hollow ache in my chest, reminded me that Rachel was gone. I couldn’t let myself forget why.
Erek stood nearby, silent. Our alliance with the Chee had ended bitterly. We’d blackmailed him, forced him to help us, and in the end, he’d drained the Pool ship of its weapons, leaving Rachel and me to face Tom and his soldiers without any way to defend ourselves. It had been his decision that had led her to her death. I couldn’t look at him without feeling a sharp stab of anger and betrayal.
Even if he saved my life.
But it didn’t matter anymore. Rachel was dead. And the rest of us were left to pick up the pieces.
The six of us who survived—Jake, Cassie, Marco, Tobias, Ax, and I—were transported back to Earth. Our arrival in Washington, D.C., was nothing short of surreal. Reporters, cameras, people shouting questions and taking photos. We were heroes, overnight celebrities, faces of a story that no one outside our circle could truly understand. They knew nothing about the fear, the sacrifice, the lives we’d lost. They’d never understand what it felt like to watch Rachel go into that fight knowing she wouldn’t come back.
Jake tried to put on a brave face, tried to play the role they all expected of him. But I saw the haunted look in his eyes, the guilt that weighed on him. Marco cracked jokes, forced smiles, but I knew he was struggling, too. Cassie tried to find some solace in the end of the war, a way to hold onto her ideals, even though they’d been tested and shattered time and again. Tobias... he kept to himself, his grief raw and unhidden. Rachel had been his whole world. She was gone, and part of him had died with her.
As for me, I didn’t have any grand words or heroic speeches. I couldn’t bring myself to care about the questions, the interviews, the fame. All I could think about was Rachel’s final words, the knowledge she had carried to her death—that our encounter with Elfangor had been orchestrated by the Ellimist. It wasn’t chance; it was a game, a cosmic plan set in motion by forces beyond our control.
And I hated it. The idea that we’d been manipulated, used as pawns in some larger scheme—it felt like a betrayal. I wondered if the others felt it, too, if they had that same cold anger burning inside.
The war was over. But the price we’d paid, the lives we’d lost, would haunt us forever.
And for Rachel—for everything she gave—I’d make sure no one ever forgot what it cost us.
---
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the cemetery as the small gathering of mourners stood by the freshly dug grave. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and wilting flowers, and a thick silence enveloped the group.
The funeral was a quiet, somber affair. It was hard to believe that Rachel—who had once been so full of life, so fiercely unstoppable—was now just a name etched on a gravestone. The ceremony, which was broadcast nationwide, became a defining moment for not just the Animorphs, but for the entire world. The President’s presence underscored the significance of Rachel’s sacrifice, though it did little to ease the pain in Nathan’s chest. The war, the battles, the choices, all of it seemed so distant in this moment of quiet. And yet, her death felt like a weight that no one could bear alone.
Jake stood at the forefront, his shoulders hunched as he clutched a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. The familiar faces of the Animorphs surrounded him, each of them grappling with the weight of their grief. Tobias perched on a nearby branch, his human form distant and detached, while Marco shuffled his feet nervously, unable to meet anyone’s gaze. Cassie stood beside him, her expression a mix of sorrow and resolve, holding a bouquet of wildflowers that Rachel would have loved.
Nathan lingered at the back, feeling the enormity of the moment settle over him like a heavy cloak. He remembered Rachel's laughter, her fierce spirit, and the countless battles they had fought together. She had been more than a friend; she had been a sister-in-arms, a beacon of strength and defiance in their darkest hours. But now, that light had been extinguished, leaving an aching void in his heart.
Rachel’s mother stood at the edge of the gathering, her eyes red and puffy from crying, trying to hold herself together for the sake of her daughter’s friends. She had known about Rachel's battles, the sacrifices she made, but nothing could prepare her for this moment.
As the small crowd fell silent, Jake stepped forward, clearing his throat. “I’m not great at this,” he began, his voice wavering slightly. “But I wanted to say a few words about Rachel.”
He paused, searching for the right words, but the memories flooded in—Rachel’s laughter, her fierce determination, the way she always charged headfirst into danger without a second thought. “Rachel was... she was the bravest person I’ve ever known. She fought for what she believed in, no matter the cost. She always had our backs.”
The weight of his words hung in the air, resonating with everyone present. Marco nodded slowly, biting his lip, and Cassie glanced up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Nathan felt a lump form in his throat as he took a deep breath, his own memories of Rachel crashing over him like waves.
“She was more than just a friend,” Jake continued, his voice steadying. “She was family. She taught us to be brave, to fight for each other, and to never give up, even when things seemed impossible.” He took a deep breath, feeling the heaviness of his heart. “We all loved her. And we will continue to fight for her, to honor her memory.”
As Jake stepped back, Tobias swooped down from the tree, landing gracefully beside him. “Rachel taught us how to be fearless,” he said softly, looking around at their group. “She never backed down from a fight, and she never hesitated to stand up for what was right. I will remember her courage every day.”
Nathan stepped forward, feeling the urge to speak, to share his own memories of Rachel. “Rachel had this way of making you feel like you could take on the world,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Even when things were at their worst, she never lost hope. She made us believe in the impossible.”
The words lingered, and a stillness fell over the gathering. It was a moment of reflection, a moment of shared sorrow. Cassie stepped forward, placing her bouquet on the grave. “I will miss her smile,” she said quietly. “She brought light into our lives.”
One by one, the others followed suit, laying flowers on the grave as a final tribute. Marco placed a single red rose down, his expression somber. “You know, she always said that roses were a symbol of strength,” he murmured, looking at the flowers with a mixture of sadness and admiration.
As they stood there, the sun dipped lower, casting a golden hue across the cemetery. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees, as if nature itself was mourning Rachel’s loss.
Finally, as the shadows lengthened, Jake took a step back, looking at the grave that held so much of their memories. “We will keep fighting, Rachel,” he promised, his voice firm. “For you, for us. We’ll never forget.”
As the ceremony ended and the mourners dispersed, Nathan found himself standing at the edge of the cemetery, his mind adrift in memories of Rachel. He could hear her laugh, her sharp wit, the way she could make any situation feel less dire, less hopeless. She had been the strongest among them, always charging forward, never asking for permission or second-guessing herself. Even now, Nathan couldn’t fully comprehend the void left by her absence.
Tobias, as always, kept to himself. He was up in the air with the urn containing Rachel’s ashes, far above them all, perhaps finding solace in the skies where she had once soared beside him. Nathan knew the hawk’s heart was heavy, but it didn’t stop Tobias from flying—Rachel would have wanted him to keep going, to keep pushing forward.
Cassie stood close to Marco, offering him the same quiet support she had always offered, though it was clear her grief ran deeper than any words could express. Nathan hadn’t seen her this quiet, this subdued, in a long time. Rachel had been her closest friend, a bond forged in the heat of battle and tempered in the fires of war. He knew it hurt her most.
“I’ll never forget her,” Nathan whispered to himself, the words barely escaping his lips. He had promised her once that they would keep fighting, that they would honor her, but he wasn’t sure how he could do that now, without her strength to carry them.
He looked back at the grave once more, staring at Rachel’s name. A lifetime too short, yet one that had changed everything. She was gone, but the promise they all made to her—that they would keep fighting—was a promise Nathan would keep. Rachel had made them believe that anything was possible, even in the face of impossible odds.
Rachel Berenson 1984-2000.
---
One year had passed since the war against the Yeerks ended, and life had settled into a strange new normal. I leaned back in the faded armchair of my therapist’s office, fingers tracing the worn fabric. The walls were a soft beige, lined with bookshelves filled with volumes on psychology and personal growth. It was a safe space, one where he could spill his thoughts without judgment. Today, though, his mind was caught in a nostalgic spiral, wandering back to the days of battle and loss.
“Can you believe it?” Nathan said, shaking his head with a small smile. “Marco’s mom was way scarier than Visser 3. She figured out we were humans in a fraction of the time it took that guy.”
His therapist, an ex-controller who had turned her life around, nodded sympathetically. “You’ve seen how long it took for Visser 3 to even consider that possibility. But the old Visser 1—she had her instincts.”
Nathan chuckled, but the humor faded quickly, replaced by a sense of fond sadness. Rachel would have thrived in this moment, likely arguing with him about the merits of being a celebrity versus the importance of staying grounded. She would have called out Marco for his fame, reminding him of the real work that still needed to be done.
He closed his eyes for a moment, imagining her fiery spirit standing beside him, challenging the absurdity of their situation. She would have been more of a wreck than he was, her passion too great to be contained in a simple therapy session. But here he was, attending weekly meetings, talking about nightmares and fears with someone who halfway understood him.
“Do you ever wonder what Tobias thinks about all this?” Nathan mused aloud. “He saw everything from a different perspective. Maybe he’s still out there, perched in a tree, watching the world change without him, he hasn't talked to anyone outside of Cassie and im worried about him.”
His therapist leaned forward slightly. “It’s okay to feel sadness for what you’ve lost, Nathan. You and your friends went through something traumatizing. Processing that is important.”
Nathan nodded, but a part of him still felt guilty. The nightmares had become less frequent, but they never fully disappeared. He remembered the chaos, the fear, the moments that still clawed at his mind in the dead of night. He even had a few morph-capable ex-controller friends now, individuals who had once been on the opposite side but had come through the trials, seeking redemption and a chance at a new life.
“Some of them were low-ranking Yeerks,” he thought, rolling his eyes internally at how long the process had taken. The trial had been necessary, even if he had cursed its duration. A year and it's still not over yet. Cassie had asked him to be there, and while he would never admit it to her face, he was grateful for the push. He suspected she knew that already.
Those who had survived the trials were given a choice to morph into Hork-Bajir, contributing to the regeneration of their population, all thanks to the Frolis maneuver. It was a strange arrangement, having them help regrow the species without making them all related. Some had chosen to become animal nothlits, while the more dangerous individuals were given human morphs and sent to actual prisons. It was a complex web of choices and consequences, but it felt necessary to Nathan, who longed for some semblance of order in a world that had once spiraled into chaos.
Meanwhile, life had changed dramatically for the others. Marco had become a celebrity, his face plastered on billboards, and his life filled with guest appearances on talk shows. Wealth and fame had come swiftly to him, but Nathan couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy mixed with pride.
Jake, on the other hand, had taken a different path. Idolized as a national hero, he was sought after by colleges and government institutions. Yet, Jake had withdrawn into himself, refusing the offers that came pouring in after Rachel’s death and the loss of his brother. The burden of grief sat heavily on him, and Nathan wished he could reach out and help, but he didn’t know how.
Cassie had found her own way, becoming the Undersecretary for the Interior of Resident Aliens. She worked tirelessly with Toby and the free Hork-Bajir, helping them settle into Yellowstone Park—a sanctuary that provided both refuge and a surge in tourism for the area. Nathan admired her dedication, but he wondered how she managed to remain so strong while grappling with her own grief.
And then there was Nathan himself, who had turned his experiences into a book titled Claws, Feathers, and Tails: An Animorph Biography. It had garnered attention and even a bit of acclaim, but the writing process had been cathartic. It forced him to confront the past and put it into words, allowing him to process the memories of battles fought and friends lost.
As the session came to a close, Nathan left the therapist’s office with a mix of emotions swirling inside him. The world outside was bright and noisy, full of life and hope, but he couldn’t shake the thought of Rachel. She would have wanted them to keep fighting, to keep pushing forward despite the weight of their memories.
With a deep breath, he stepped out into the sunlight, determined to honor her spirit in everything he did. Even as sadness lingered in his heart, he carried with him the strength of his friends and the promise of a better tomorrow.
__
Two years had slipped by since the war ended, a span of time marked by growth, healing, and the enduring scars of memory. Nathan found solace in the routine he had established with Cassie, visiting Toby at Yellowstone National Park at least once a month. It was a trip that had become a comforting ritual, a chance to reconnect not only with Toby but also with the sense of purpose that had once defined their lives as Animorphs.
The park was a sprawling expanse of natural beauty, with majestic mountains, serene lakes, and vibrant forests. It had become a new home for the Hork-Bajir, granted protection by the U.S. government after the war. Nathan marveled at how the landscape had transformed, becoming a sanctuary where the Hork-Bajir could thrive in peace.
As he and Cassie drove through the park, he watched as her eyes sparkled with excitement, her passion for wildlife evident in the way she talked about various animals—elk grazing by the roadside, bison lumbering across the plains, and the occasional glimpse of ironically a wolf in the distance.
I had decided to visit Toby, Ket Halpak and some of the other Hork-Bajir once a month after the war, and i asked Cassie if i could come with her , since she can drive. I can't drive, i never got a drivers license, it's kinda pointless when you can fly. Or i could have taken the bus since it's more ecological but im not paying 300$ a month for that.
Cassie refused at first since she had ''important work'' and that i would ''get in the way''. Then i gave her my best sad expression and she agree!
Oh, the advantages of being two years younger than your sister figure and getting what you want.
It felt great.
“—and that’s why the elk population has been increasing steadily,” Cassie finished, glancing over to see if he was paying attention.
“Uh-huh, that’s great,” Nathan replied absently, still watching the passing landscape. “So, when do we get to see Toby?”
Cassie chuckled, rolling her eyes. “You’re worse than Marco. Can’t you appreciate the beauty for a second? It’s not just about the Hork-Bajir, you know.”
“Hey, I appreciate it,” Nathan said with a grin. “But let’s be real, I’m here for Toby and the gang. Nature’s cool and all, but it doesn’t beat catching up with the Hork-Bajir.”
Cassie shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “You’re hopeless. But yeah, we should be there in about fifteen minutes. Toby’s expecting us.”
Nathan nodded, turning his attention back to the scenery. It still amazed him, how far the Hork-Bajir had come. After the war, Toby had taken charge, leading her people to this sanctuary, a place where they could live without fear of being hunted or enslaved. The U.S. government, pressured by the surviving Animorphs and their allies, had agreed to grant the Hork-Bajir a protected space within the park, away from prying eyes.
The Jeep bounced over a rough patch of dirt road, and Nathan gripped the door handle, shooting Cassie a playful glare. “You sure you’re not trying to kill us?”
Cassie laughed. “Relax, city boy. I’ve got this.”
Nathan smirked, but a part of him still marveled at the ease with which Cassie navigated these roads. She had always been the nature lover, the one with her feet firmly planted on the ground—or, as Marco liked to joke, the one most likely to become a forest hermit.
As they rounded a bend, Nathan spotted the familiar towering forms of the Hork-Bajir in the distance. Toby, tall and graceful, was already waiting for them, her distinctive silver-edged blades catching the sunlight. Behind her, a few other Hork-Bajir were milling about, their sharp eyes scanning the surroundings.
“Looks like the welcoming committee is here,” Nathan said, a note of excitement in his voice.
Cassie pulled to a stop, and Nathan was out of the Jeep before the engine had even finished sputtering. He jogged over to Toby, grinning widely.
“Toby! Good to see you,” Nathan called out, raising a hand in greeting.
Toby’s face split into a sharp-toothed smile. “Nathan, Cassie. Welcome back.” Her voice was warm, but there was always that undercurrent of seriousness, the weight of leadership that never quite left her.
As they exchanged greetings, Nathan couldn’t help but marvel at how much Toby had grown into her role as leader. She was confident, self-assured, a far cry from the Hork-Bajir seer they had first met. But there was still that spark of curiosity, that hunger for knowledge that had always set her apart from her kin.
Cassie joined them, hugging Toby briefly before stepping back to let Nathan have his moment. He peppered Toby with questions—how were the new hatchlings? Had the humans kept their promise to leave them in peace? Toby answered patiently, her eyes crinkling in amusement at his enthusiasm.
“You haven’t changed, Nathan,” Toby said finally, her voice fond. “Always full of questions.”
“Hey, I’ve got to make sure my favorite Hork-Bajir are doing okay,” Nathan replied with a wink.
As they walked deeper into the makeshift Hork-Bajir colony, Nathan couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace wash over him. It was so different from the life they had led during the war, so different from the constant danger and uncertainty. Here, in this quiet corner of the world, it felt like they could finally breathe, finally start to heal.
Cassie, too, seemed lighter, her laughter more frequent, her eyes brighter. It was a side of her that Nathan cherished, the side that reminded him of the girl she had been before everything changed.
And yet, as they approached the central clearing where the Hork-Bajir gathered, Nathan couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. The war was over, but the scars it had left behind were still raw, still aching. It was in the way Tobias kept his distance, in the way Jake’s smile never quite reached his eyes.
But for now, Nathan pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the moment, on the here and now. The past could wait. Right now, they had friends to catch up with, a new year to welcome, and for a few precious hours, they could pretend that the world was simple again.
Cassie nudged him with her elbow. “You good?”
Nathan smiled at her. “Yeah. I think I am.”
For the first time in a long while, that was actually true.
---
Ten months had passed as Nathan settled into the familiar rhythm of sketching, the pencil gliding over the paper as he lost himself in the motion. The image began to take shape—a dynamic scene of the Animorphs in action, fighting against the Yeerks, with Rachel at the forefront, her fierce determination radiating from the page. He could almost hear her laughter, feel the rush of adrenaline that had fueled their battles.
As he drew, memories flooded back: the day they first discovered their morphing powers, the laughter they shared during late-night strategy sessions, the quiet moments when they simply enjoyed each other’s company. But it was Rachel who stood out, a fierce warrior with an indomitable spirit that had always inspired him. He imagined how she would have fought for their future, how she would have been at the center of every victory, rallying everyone around her.
He paused, pencil hovering over the page, and sighed. “If only you were here, Rachel,” he murmured. “You would have made this easier.”
The night wore on, the city outside shifting from the warm glow of sunset to the coolness of twilight. Nathan’s mind wandered to his friends—Marco’s rise to fame, Jake’s retreat into himself, Cassie’s commitment to her work with the Hork-Bajir, and Tobias’s steadfast presence as a protector of the wild. Each of them had taken different paths, yet they were all bound by the shared experiences of their past.
He still thought about the trial of Visser 3, or rather, Visser 1 as it had turned out. Nathan couldn’t help still but find irony in the fact that Marco’s mother, who had been a looming figure of authority, had figured out their secret so quickly, while Visser 3 had been blind to their true identities even after all their encounters. It was almost laughable if it hadn’t been so tragic.
“Guess it’s all in who you underestimate,” he chuckled softly to himself, thinking of Marco’s comments about his mother. If only they had known the depths of their own strength back then.
Nathan set down his pencil and leaned back on the couch, stretching his arms overhead. The faint sound of traffic filtered through the window, a reminder of the life that continued beyond his own little world. He felt a strange sense of peace mingling with the sorrow, a realization that healing was a process—one that required acknowledging the pain while also embracing the moments of joy.
Reaching for his phone, he opened the messages app, scrolling through the exchanges with his friends. A recent text from Cassie caught his eye: “Thinking about organizing another visit to Toby next month. Want to join?”
Nathan smiled, tapping out a quick reply. “Absolutely! I’ll bring some supplies for the Hork-Bajir.” The thought of helping out, contributing to the community they had built, brought a warmth to his heart. He knew that Rachel would have loved to be part of this, supporting her friends and making a difference.
As he put his phone down, a sudden thought struck him: What does Tobias think about all of this? Nathan had always admired Tobias’s resilience, his ability to adapt to the world around him despite the pain of losing his own family. They hadn’t talked much since the war, but Nathan knew that Tobias must have his own reflections on the past couple of years, especially with the changes happening around them.
The idea of reaching out to Tobias tugged at Nathan, a sense of urgency pushing him to reconnect. They had all faced unimaginable challenges, and perhaps it was time to check in, to see how his friend was really doing. Tobias had always been the one to fly high above the chaos, but even the strongest among them needed support.
With a determined nod, Nathan opened a new message. “Hey, Tobias. It’s been a while. How are you holding up? Want to meet up soon? I’d love to catch up.”
After sending the message, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. Reaching out was a step toward healing, not just for himself but for everyone they had lost. They were all trying to navigate their new lives, and sometimes, the best way to move forward was to lean on each other, to share their experiences and memories.
Feeling invigorated by the thought of reconnecting with his friends, Nathan returned to his sketchbook. He added more detail to his drawing, focusing on Rachel’s fierce expression as she stood valiantly against their enemies. With each stroke of the pencil, he felt a sense of purpose—a desire to honor her memory, to keep her spirit alive in every line he drew.
Hours passed, and the room was filled with the soft sound of pencil on paper, the city outside quieting down as night settled in. Nathan continued to sketch, pouring his heart into the image, each detail a tribute to the warrior they had lost. He could almost hear Rachel’s voice in his mind, urging him to keep fighting, to never give up.
Eventually, he put down the pencil, staring at the drawing that now filled the page. It was more than just an illustration; it was a reflection of everything they had been through, everything they had fought for.
As he glanced around his apartment, he felt a renewed sense of determination. The nightmares may have faded, but the memories would always remain. Rachel’s spirit would guide him, just as it had in the past, reminding him that they were still part of something greater—a legacy of courage, friendship, and resilience that would live on in their hearts.
With that thought, Nathan stood, taking a moment to absorb the warmth of his surroundings before he turned off the lights and prepared for bed. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but he was ready to face them, armed with the strength of his memories and the love of his friends.
---
The wind bit harshly at their feathers as they soared through the winter sky, the city below blanketed in fresh snow. The silence between them was thick, the kind that spoke of unsaid things rather than comfort. Nathan, in his raven morph, flew slightly ahead, his black feathers blending with the dimming light of dusk, while Tobias flew beside him, his hawk form a stark contrast against the gray sky.
Nathan had been the one to pester Tobias into coming to Cassie's new place for the new years celebration. It had taken two months of nudging, dropping hints, and outright begging. "At least socialize a little bit," Nathan had urged, the words a mix of concern and a bit of frustration. Tobias had finally relented, though he had been reluctant, as if the idea of being surrounded by old friends felt more like a battle than a reunion.
The cold air filled the spaces between them, the sound of their wings beating rhythmically in sync. The party was a big one last year; it had been the first time they'd all come together since the war ended. There had been laughter, tears, and memories shared that felt like they belonged to someone else’s life. Marco’s parents had been there, Cassie’s too. Even Ax, who had managed to return from the Andalite homeworld, had made an appearance alongside Aldrea’s presence in his mind. The few surviving auxiliary Animorphs were there as well—Timmy, Kelly, Colette, Tuan.
Of the original auxiliary recruits, only James had fallen during that final battle on the Pool ship. Out of the seventeen, only six had survived, thanks to the Chee who had used their holograms and forcefields to get them to safety. Nathan's cousin, Bradley, had been among the auxiliaries. The memory of him smiling, so excited about morphing for the first time, haunted Nathan. He could never forgive Jake not telling the plan and for putting them all in needless danger, and
turning a another group of kids into soldiers. Most of them hadn’t made it.
They had all been so excited when they first received the morphing power. Nathan remembered that day clearly—they had all morphed into pigeons and taken to the skies, laughter and exhilaration echoing as they experienced the freedom of flight for the first time. Then, of course, they went to The Gardens to acquire battle morphs, a sobering reminder of what they were really in for.
The celebration had been bittersweet, but it was a chance to reconnect. It was also the first time Nathan had seen Tobias truly vulnerable, surrounded by people who cared for him but didn’t quite know how to approach him anymore. Last year, Tobias hadn't shown up, and Nathan hadn't pushed him then. This year, he pushed, and Tobias caved.
After flying in silence for what felt like hours, Nathan decided to break it. < Hey, just so you know... your mom came to last year’s celebration,> Nathan said, trying to keep his tone casual, though he regretted it the moment the words left his beak.
There was a long pause, the wind whistling between them, before Tobias responded. < She... she was there? > His voice was so soft, Nathan almost missed it.
< Yeah, > Nathan replied, mentally kicking himself for how casually he’d dropped that bomb. < Cassie and I invited her back this year. >
Silence again. They flew on, the snow falling thicker now, swirling around them like a relentless tide of white.
< You okay? > Nathan asked after a moment, unsure if he should say more.
Tobias’ response was a long time coming. < I... I don't know what to say to her, > he finally admitted, his tone uncertain, the usual strength in his voice replaced by something fragile. < I mean, after everything... after all the lies, the years apart... what am I supposed to say? >
Nathan felt a pang of guilt for pushing Tobias on this, but he couldn't help feeling a little annoyed too. After everything they’d gone through to rescue Loren, Tobias’ mother, after nearly getting killed again... Tobias had barely reached out to her. It hurt Nathan to see the two of them avoiding what could be a chance to reconnect.
He wanted to say something harsh, something that would shake Tobias out of his self-imposed isolation, but he bit his tongue. They were all damaged, all coping in the only ways they knew how. It wasn’t fair to be angry, not when they were all just trying to survive.
< I get it, > Nathan said finally, his voice softening. < But maybe... maybe you don’t need to say anything. Maybe just showing up is enough. I think... it would mean a lot to her, you know?”>
Tobias' wings dipped slightly, his flight path faltering before he steadied himself. < Yeah... maybe, > he said, but there was a weariness in his voice that Nathan couldn’t quite ignore.
The snow fell heavier as they continued, blanketing the world below in a soft, indifferent silence. Nathan knew this conversation was far from over, that there were wounds in Tobias that went too deep to be healed with a few words and good intentions. But at least Tobias had heard him, had let him in just a little. That was something.
The lights of Cassie’s new house were visible in the distance now, a warm glow in the gathering dark. Nathan glanced over at Tobias, wishing he could see his expression, wishing he could read the thoughts hidden behind those piercing hawk eyes.
<“Hey, if it’s too much, you don’t have to stay long,”> Nathan said, trying to offer an olive branch. < Just... come in, say hi. You don’t have to face everyone if you don’t want to. >
Tobias gave a non-committal shrug, his feathers ruffling slightly. < We’ll see, > he said, and Nathan knew that was the best he could hope for.
They flew on, the snowstorm wrapping them in a cocoon of white, two shadows against the darkening sky, heading towards a gathering that was supposed to be a celebration but would always carry the weight of their shared past.
As they neared Cassie's place, the wind picked up, flinging snowflakes into their faces. Nathan was grateful for the raven’s thick feathers, but he knew Tobias wasn’t as lucky in his red-tailed hawk morph. Nathan noticed the way Tobias’ wings trembled slightly in the cold, and he wondered again if this had been a mistake. But there was no turning back now.
Cassie’s house came into view, its windows glowing with warm light that spilled onto the snow-covered yard. It wasn’t her parents’ farm—she had moved into a modest but cozy place on the outskirts of town. It had just enough space for her animals and was secluded enough that visitors could come and go without drawing too much attention. It was perfect for their little reunions.
Nathan and Tobias circled above the house, surveying the scene below. Cassie had strung up festive lights around the porch, and a few cars were parked in the driveway—Marco’s new sedan and Jake’s bought old truck, among others.
< Looks like the gang’s all here, > Nathan remarked, trying to inject some cheer into his tone, though he couldn’t quite mask the nerves underlying his words.
Tobias didn’t respond. Instead, he tilted his wings and began to descend, gliding down toward the back of the house where the porch light didn’t reach. Nathan followed suit, landing awkwardly on a snow-covered fencepost and shifting back into his human form. The change was always disorienting, feathers retracting into skin, bones reshaping, until he was standing in the snow with nothing but his black cargo pants and a red sweater and green thick socks to keep him warm.
Tobias landed beside him, morphing in a fluid motion that spoke of years of practice. In seconds, the hawk was gone, replaced by a lanky l boy with wild, windswept dirty blonde hair and squinting eyes not used to his human body. He wore a dark green jacket, red shirt and black pants and socks.
Nathan could see the tension in Tobias' shoulders, the way he kept his arms wrapped around himself as if bracing against more than just the cold.
“Hey,” Nathan said softly, not quite sure how to bridge the distance between them. “You good?”
Tobias gave a quick nod, but his eyes were darting around, taking in the familiar surroundings. “Yeah... yeah, I’m fine.”
But he didn’t look fine. He looked like a trapped animal, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger. Nathan wanted to reach out, to say something that would ease the fear he could see bubbling just beneath the surface, but before he could figure out the right words, the back door opened, flooding the yard with light.
“Nathan? Tobias?” Cassie’s voice was warm and welcoming, a balm against the cold night. She was bundled in a thick sweater, her face breaking into a wide smile when she saw them. “I was starting to think you two weren’t coming.”
Nathan forced a grin, stepping forward to hug her. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Tobias hung back, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, but Cassie didn’t seem to mind. She gave him a soft, understanding smile, the kind that said she saw right through him but wasn’t going to call him out on it.
“Well, come on in, you two,” she said, stepping aside to let them in. “We’ve got hot chocolate, and Marco’s trying to teach Ax how to roast marshmallows. It’s... going about as well as you’d expect.”
Nathan couldn’t help but laugh at that, the tension in his chest easing just a little. He glanced back at Tobias, giving him a small nod as if to say, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺. 𝘞𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.
Tobias hesitated for a moment, then nodded back and followed them inside.
The warmth hit them like a wall as they stepped into the house, the scent of pine and cinnamon filling the air. It was cozy, almost painfully so, a stark contrast to the freezing, war-torn memories they all carried. Nathan could hear Marco’s loud voice from the living room, and Ax’s unmistakable laughter, a sound that was both alien and endearing.
Cassie led them into the living room where everyone was gathered. Marco was in the middle of a dramatic retelling of some ridiculous story, complete with exaggerated gestures. Jake was sitting on the couch, looking more relaxed than Nathan had seen him in a long time, and there was even a rare smile on his face. Ax was beside him, looking utterly fascinated by the concept of marshmallow roasting, while Estrid’s voice echoed in their minds, sharing in Ax’s curiosity.
The moment they stepped into the room, all eyes turned to them. For a second, there was a pause, a moment of uncertainty, but then Marco broke the silence.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the elusive bird boy and his stubborn friend!” Marco crowed, his grin wide and genuine. “I thought you guys were too cool to hang out with us regular folk.”
Nathan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, Marco, keep talking. You’ll be begging us to leave when we eat all the food.”
But Tobias stood there, frozen, clearly uncomfortable with all the attention. Cassie must have sensed it because she quickly stepped in.
“Come on, let’s get you guys something to drink,” she said, steering them toward the kitchen. “You must be freezing.”
Nathan shot her a grateful look, glad for the excuse to break away from the group. They followed her into the kitchen, where the noise of the party was muffled, leaving them in a bubble of relative quiet.
Cassie busied herself with pouring hot chocolate, the mugs steaming as she set them on the counter. “So... how are you holding up?” she asked softly, directing the question more at Tobias than Nathan.
Tobias shrugged, staring down at his mug. “I’m... I’m here,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.
Cassie nodded, not pushing him for more. “That’s enough,” she said gently. “We’re just glad you came.”
Nathan watched the exchange, feeling a pang of something he couldn’t quite name—relief, maybe, that they still had this, this fragile connection that held them all together, even after everything.
The quiet moment stretched on, the warmth of the kitchen seeping into their bones, thawing the ice that had built up over the years. For a while, it almost felt like old times, like they were just kids again, gathered around a table after a long day, not soldiers with scars that would never fully heal.
Still, for now, he was content to let it be, to pretend that they could have this, even if only for a little while.
---
Nathan took a moment to savor the warmth of the hot chocolate, letting it banish the chill that had settled into his bones during the long flight. He could feel the buzz of conversation from the living room, the laughter and banter that filled the house. It was a strange kind of comfort, one that felt both familiar and foreign after everything they’d been through.
“I’m gonna go say hi to the others,” Nathan said, setting down his mug. Cassie gave him a nod, her eyes soft with understanding.
“Take your time,” she said, glancing at Tobias, who was still staring into his mug like it held the answers to all his problems. “We’ll be here.”
Nathan gave her a grateful smile before slipping back into the living room. The noise hit him like a wave, but it was a welcome one. The energy of the room was infectious, and for a moment, he allowed himself to get swept up in it.
He scanned the room, looking for familiar faces. Marco was still holding court, making Ax laugh with some outlandish story. Jake had moved to the armchair, his usual serious expression softened by the presence of friends. There was something lighter about him now, a weight lifted from his shoulders since the war had ended. Nathan could see it in the way Jake leaned back, looking like he was finally learning to relax.
But it was the small group near the window that caught Nathan’s attention—the auxiliary Animorphs, gathered together in their own circle. Timmy, Tuan, Kelly, and Colette were deep in conversation, their laughter a bit softer, a bit more subdued, but still genuine. They had survived against impossible odds, and even now, Nathan could see the lingering shadows of what they’d been through.
“Hey, guys,” Nathan said as he approached, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Long time no see.”
The group turned to him, their faces lighting up in recognition. Timmy, still as cheerful as ever despite everything, was the first to greet him. < “Nathan! Thought you were gonna skip out on us.” >
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Nathan replied, clapping Timmy on the shoulder. He exchanged hugs and quick handshakes with the others, feeling a strange mix of joy and sadness at seeing them all again. Every reunion was a reminder of those they had lost, of James and the other auxiliaries who hadn’t made it out of the war alive.
As they chatted, Nathan found himself falling into the rhythm of the conversation, letting the past slip away, if only for a moment. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Loren. She was standing by the fireplace, looking a little out of place among the younger crowd.
Nathan excused himself from the group and made his way over to her. “Loren,” he said, his voice soft with genuine warmth. “How’ve you been?”
Loren turned, her expression softening when she saw him. “Nathan,” she said with a small smile. “I’m... managing. It’s been... a lot.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Nathan replied, nodding. He hesitated, not wanting to push her, but also wanting to show her that he cared. “I heard you came by last year, for the New Year’s thing. I’m sorry i already left by that time.”
Loren’s smile faltered, but she nodded. “It was... nice. Strange, but nice. Tobias wasn’t there, though.” There was a hint of sadness in her voice, a longing that Nathan recognized all too well. “I was hoping to see him tonight, but I guess we’ll see.”
“He’s here,” Nathan said gently. “He’s just... you know how he is. It’s a process.”
Loren nodded, her eyes drifting to the doorway, as if hoping Tobias would walk through it at any moment. Nathan wanted to reassure her, but he knew there were no easy answers here. Tobias was still working through his own demons, and no one could rush him through that.
Before the silence could get too heavy, a new voice broke in.
“Hey, Nathan, glad you could make it.”
Nathan turned to see Cassie’s new boyfriend—or, rather, her 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘦𝘳 boyfriend, because Marco never missed a chance to remind everyone about the awkward, brief period Cassie had dated someone else in college. Nathan struggled to remember his name. Ronnie? Ron? It was something like that.
“Ronnie, right?” Nathan asked, offering a hand.
“Yeah, Ronnie,” he confirmed with a laugh, shaking Nathan’s hand firmly. “Cassie’s told me a lot about you guys. It’s an honor to meet one of the heroes in person.”
Nathan smiled, trying to hide his discomfort at the word hero. “Well, don’t believe everything you hear,” he said lightly. “Most of it’s probably exaggerated.”
Ronnie laughed again, clearly eager to make a good impression. “I don’t know, I’ve heard some pretty crazy stuff.”
Cassie came up behind him, rolling her eyes affectionately. “He’s harmless, I promise,” she said to Nathan, slipping an arm around Ronnie’s waist.
Nathan nodded, glancing between the two of them. It was good to see Cassie happy, especially after everything she and Jake had been through. He knew how rough it had been for them after the war, but from the looks of things, they’d found some kind of peace. Even if it wasn’t with each other.
Speaking of Jake, Nathan noticed Tobias lingering by the doorway, keeping his distance as usual. And then there was Jake, standing across the room, his eyes flicking over to Tobias every few seconds. The tension between them was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but they had gotten better at managing it. There were fewer arguments now, fewer moments of barely restrained fury. But the hurt, the betrayal—it hadn’t gone away.
Nathan knew it would take a lot more than time to heal those wounds. But for tonight, at least, they could pretend. Pretend that things were okay, that they were all just friends gathering for a holiday celebration.
“Nathan!” Marco called from across the room. “Get over here, man! We’re gonna see if Ax can eat a marshmallow without morphing!”
Nathan laughed, shaking his head. “This I’ve got to see,” he said, giving Loren one last reassuring smile before heading over to join the chaos.
---
Tobias stood in the hallway, staring at the closed door in front of him. He could hear the laughter and chatter from the living room, the warmth of the celebration filtering through the cracks, but it all felt distant. His heart pounded in his chest, louder than the muffled sounds of joy beyond the door. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and turned the knob.
The room fell silent as Tobias entered. Loren stood near the fireplace, her eyes widening as she saw him. For a moment, mother and son just stared at each other, the years of absence hanging heavily between them.
“Tobias,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence.
“Hey… Mom,” he replied awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. The words felt strange on his tongue, like they didn’t quite belong.
Loren’s eyes were filled with something Tobias couldn’t quite place—hope, fear, love, all mixed together in a confusing swirl. She took a hesitant step forward, and Tobias met her halfway.
“I’m sorry,” Tobias said quickly, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I know I should have called or… something. I just… I didn’t know how to—”
Loren shook her head, a sad smile on her lips. “Tobias, you don’t need to apologize. I understand. Rachel’s passing was hard on you. And… I’ve barely been a mother to you. I know that.” Her voice wavered, but she held his gaze. “I didn’t expect you to come running to me. I just… I’m glad you’re here now.”
Tobias nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I’m… I’m glad too,” he managed, his voice barely above a whisper. There was so much more he wanted to say, but the words just wouldn’t come. So instead, they stood there, a fragile truce forming in the quiet.
Nathan, watching the exchange from the corner of the room, decided to give them some space. He slipped back into the main living area, where the party was picking up again.
Cassie was by the kitchen, chatting with her new boyfriend, Ronnie, who was enthusiastically recounting some funny story. Nathan smiled at the sight, glad to see Cassie looking so happy. As he approached, he leaned in to ask her a question.
“Hey, Cassie,” Nathan said, catching her attention. “Where’s Aftran? I thought she might be here by now.”
Cassie’s eyes lit up. “Oh, she’s coming. Actually, she decided to invite someone, so she’s running a bit late.”
Nathan raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Someone? Who?”
Before Cassie could answer, there was a knock at the door. The room quieted again, a hush falling over the gathering as everyone turned to look. Nathan felt a familiar mix of anxiety and excitement as he walked over to open the door.
Aftran stood there, looking both nervous and determined, and beside her was Erek, his hologram projecting his usual friendly, human appearance.
“Aftran, Erek,” Nathan greeted, trying to keep his tone casual despite the sudden tension that rippled through the room. It had been a long time since any of them had seen Erek, especially after all that had happened with the Chee during the war. “Welcome.”
Aftran smiled, though it was tinged with uncertainty. “Thank you, Nathan,” she said. “It’s good to see you all again.”
The Animorphs visibly tensed, a reflex they couldn’t quite suppress, but the moment passed quickly as they exchanged hesitant smiles. Marco was the first to break the ice, waving them in. “Well, don’t just stand there freezing on the porch. Get in here before we turn into ice cubes.”
As the door closed behind them, the atmosphere lightened. The auxiliary Animorphs, who had known Aftran from her brief time with them, came over to greet her warmly, while Erek received nods and smiles of recognition. The reunion was awkward but hopeful, as if they were all trying to rebuild something that had been lost.
Nathan watched the interactions unfold, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. It was strange, seeing these old allies back together, but it was also… good. Healing, in a way.
“Where’s Aftran been?” Nathan asked, turning to Cassie, who had joined him by the doorway.
Cassie smiled wistfully. “When I went to rescue her that time... she had a proposal for the Chee. She convinced them to build a Yeerk Pool, one with proper nutrition and space. Somewhere that wouldn’t force others into captivity or starvation.” Cassie’s voice softened as she recalled the conversation. “She told Erek, ‘You’re going to build a Yeerk Pool for me and for those poor sods you lot have been imprisoning. It’s going to have adequate nutrition and be of our preferred temperature, and it’s going to have room to swim around. Don’t even try to tell me you can’t do it.’ And Erek just said it would take an hour.”
Nathan raised his eyebrows, impressed. “And they did it?”
Cassie nodded. “They did. And now, Aftran’s been helping to oversee it, trying to give her people a chance to survive without hosts.”
The room had settled back into a comfortable hum of conversation, with Aftran and Erek joining the others. Marco was trying to teach Aftran how to play charades, much to everyone’s amusement. Ax, in his human morph, was still obsessing over the marshmallows, now explaining the concept of roasting them to Erek, who listened with a bemused smile.
Nathan found a spot by the window, looking out at the snow-covered yard. The house was filled with warmth, laughter, and a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a long time.
New Year’s was only a few minutes away. The countdown would start soon, and for once, they were all together, safe, and—dare he think it—happy.
“Hey, Nathan!” Marco called out, holding up a glass. “You ready to toast the new year?”
Nathan turned, a grin spreading across his face. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
---
“Alright, everyone!” Cassie called, her voice cutting through the chatter. “It’s almost time! Grab a drink, we’re doing a toast!”
Nathan found himself a glass and moved to stand with the others. Marco was making faces at Ax, who was still trying to figure out the marshmallow situation, while Jake stood quietly beside Cassie, his hand resting on her shoulder in a way that spoke of old, familiar comfort.
As everyone gathered around, the countdown to the New Year began. The tension that had been simmering beneath the surface seemed to dissipate, replaced by a feeling of togetherness that was rare among them these days.
“Alright, everyone, gather ‘round!” Cassie said, her voice filled with that gentle authority that had always been so uniquely hers. “I just want to say... thank you. For being here. For surviving. For being family.”
The room fell silent, everyone holding their breath as the final seconds of the year ticked away. Nathan could see the emotions flickering across everyone’s faces—the relief, the hope, the sadness for those they had lost.
Cassie raised her glass. “To the past, to the friends we’ve lost, and to the future... may it be kinder to us all.”
The room erupted in cheers as the clock struck midnight. Nathan clinked glasses with Marco, who was grinning like a maniac, and Ax, who seemed to be getting the hang of human celebrations. Tobias stood a bit apart from the others, but when Nathan looked over, he saw Tobias raise his glass—an awkward, hesitant gesture, but one that meant the world.
Nathan made his way through the crowd to stand beside him, holding up his own glass. “Happy New Year, Tobias,” he said quietly.
Tobias looked at him, and for a moment, there was something in his eyes—something that looked almost like hope. ''Happy New Year Nathan'' he replied.
They stood there together, side by side, watching as the room erupted into laughter and celebration. For a moment, it felt like old times, like the war had never happened, like they were just a group of friends celebrating the start of something new.
A new beginning.
---
7 months after the new years festivities, Nathan settled into the comfort of his third-floor apartment, appreciating the layout that suited his needs perfectly. The windows were large, offering a view of the bustling city below, but more importantly, they provided an easy escape route when he morphed. It was one of the perks of living in a place like this—he could jump from the ledge, morph midair, and glide down seamlessly. Plus, he had found that the window made for a nice perch, especially during quiet evenings when he wanted to reflect on the day.
After a long night of sketching, he finally set down his pencil, stretching out his arms and yawning. The thought of food made his stomach grumble, so he made his way to the kitchen, eager for a late-night snack. He opened the fridge, scanning its contents and grabbing some leftovers from earlier in the week.
He set his plate on the table, ready to indulge in the simple pleasure of a warm meal. As he sat down, he took out his phone, intending to call his mom and check in. It had been a while since they last spoke, and he knew she would appreciate hearing from him. Just as he was about to press the dial button, a bright light suddenly engulfed the room, blinding him momentarily.
“What the—” Nathan exclaimed, squinting against the radiance.
As the light dimmed, the familiar figure of the Elimist materialized before him, its presence a mix of calm and cosmic weight. Nathan’s heart sank. He had hoped for a quiet evening, one where he could just enjoy his food and unwind.
“Nathan Wyking,” the Elimist spoke, its voice echoing through the room like a gentle wind. “I have come to speak with you.”
“Can’t this wait?” Nathan groaned, rubbing his eyes. “I was just about to eat.”
The Elimist regarded him with an expression that was both inscrutable and oddly sympathetic. “I understand your frustration, but this is important.”
“Everything is always important when it comes to you,” Nathan muttered, pushing his plate aside. “What’s the crisis this time?”
“The world is changing again,” the Elimist replied, its form shimmering slightly. “And with change comes new challenges. You have been a crucial part of this struggle, and your strength will be needed once more.”
Nathan sighed, feeling a mix of irritation and acceptance wash over him. He couldn’t deny the truth in the Elimist’s words. He had faced countless battles before, and every time he thought he could finally take a break, something else emerged.
“Can’t I at least finish my meal?” Nathan pleaded, gesturing to the uneaten food on the table. “I haven’t had a proper moment to relax in ages.”
The Elimist paused, its gaze softening. “I can give you a brief respite. However, time is of the essence, and I need your attention.”
With a resigned huff, Nathan glanced at his leftovers, feeling a pang of disappointment. “Fine. What’s going on?”
“New threats have emerged from the shadows, ones that may require your unique abilities and the bonds you share with your friends. You must be prepared to act swiftly.”
Nathan nodded, his annoyance fading as the weight of responsibility settled back onto his shoulders. He had faced darker times, and if the Elimist was here, it meant that something significant was brewing.
---
Before Nathan could respond, a blinding light enveloped him once more, brighter than before. He felt a strange pull, like he was being yanked from his surroundings.
“What’s happening?!” he shouted, panic rising in his chest.
Then, in an instant, Nathan found himself suspended in mid-air, the ground far below him. He was falling—plummeting through a vast expanse of blue sky, the wind rushing past him as his heart raced. He flailed his arms instinctively, his body reacting to the sensation of freefall.
The wind whipped past me like a relentless force, rushing to greet me as I plummeted through the vast expanse of sky. I had no idea how far I had fallen or how high I had been before the Elimist decided to drop me into this bizarre new world. For a moment, I let the absurdity of the situation wash over me—here I was, Nathan, a 16 years old black teenager from Earth, ex animorph, hurtling through the air with all the grace of a rock. I cursed the Elimist’s name under my breath, the anger bubbling beneath the surface of my otherwise calm demeanor.
“Damn you, Elimist!” I muttered, my voice lost in the rush of wind. “Couldn’t you have at least given me a heads-up before sending me to this random hellhole?”
I glanced around, the clouds swirling like a dark sea beneath me, a stark contrast to the calm boredom that etched my expression. I was not afraid of falling; I was far more annoyed about being yanked from a world where I was still trying to process the aftermath of an alien invasion. Most of the Animorphs were scattered across the galaxy, and Cassie and I were the only ones left to deal with the remnants of our fight. But the Elimist clearly had other plans.
As the ground rushed up to meet me, I quickly assessed my options. If I didn’t morph soon, I’d become a very wet, very dead teenager. I had a split second to decide between the morphs I had at my disposal: a flying squirrel or a Barbary falcon. The flying squirrel would give me the best chance at a soft landing, but the idea of soaring through the air as a falcon was far more appealing.
“What the hell, let’s go for it,” I thought, gritting my teeth against the wind.
I closed my eyes, focusing on the morph, feeling my body respond to the familiar sensations. A rush of energy surged through me as I envisioned the sleek, agile form of the Barbary falcon. I could feel my bones shifting, my muscles realigning, feathers sprouting from my skin like a sudden burst of light. The transformation was fluid, a dance of power and grace, and I welcomed it as I soared into the sky.
My vision sharpened, the world around me coming into focus with stunning clarity. I opened my eyes to find myself gliding effortlessly through the air, my wings beating against the wind. Below, the vast blue expanse of water stretched endlessly, glimmering like a sapphire jewel. I could see the shimmering surface reflecting the clouds above as I leveled out, my mind momentarily distracted from the absurdity of my situation.
As I gained altitude, I caught sight of something massive rising from the water—a castle perched on a rocky island, with towering spires and stone walls weathered by time. I didn’t know what it was called, but it looked imposing, with banners snapping in the wind, hinting at the power of whoever ruled this land. My curiosity piqued, and I allowed myself a brief moment of awe before I noticed a flash of green in the sky, darting past me with astonishing speed.
“What in the world is that?” I wondered, instinctively veering away from the vibrant streak.
I couldn’t let my thoughts wander too much; I was still trying to process the fact that I had been transported to a completely different world. I had never read A Song of Ice and Fire, my knowledge limited to the buzz of the early 2000s—just as I had been adjusting to the aftermath of our victory against the Yeerks for 3 years.
But the Elimist had decided my fate without consulting me, tossing me into this strange realm while my friends were fighting battles of their own. I cursed his name once more, my irritation boiling just beneath the surface. Whatever awaited me down there, I was determined to face it head-on, wings spread wide, ready for whatever challenges this world had in store.
I hate you Elimist. Know that.