I'm finally happy again and well enough to right. You'll find out why I was upset in the first place if you keep reading.

Disclaimer: I do not know Storm Hawks. They are property of Nerd Corps.

Always Be

Inspired by a True Story

By WhispertheWolf

Dedicated to Louia, the best dog that ever lived, a faithful friend andloyal companion. She walked me up to my bus stop on the morning of October 10, 2008 and saw me off to school as always—and was not there when I came home. She was 6 years old. She was my shadow, part of my identity, and will always be part of my heart.

Chapter 1: The Shock

You never see it coming. It doesn't seem possible.

On Terra Atmosia, Aerrow and Finn drove up in front of the Condor, laughing and joking about Aerrow's latest stunt. Aerrow was grinning ear to ear. Not only had he skimmedPatrick'sPeak, but he had also been successful in helping out another Sky Knight, turned in a report to the Sky Knight Council, had been noticed by a girl in town, avoided Piper's shopping trip, and still find time to play keep-away with his friends. He was feeling even more optimistic than usual.

He didn't know it yet, but he'd never forget this day. Unfortunately, it wouldn't be because of his happiness.

Aerrow would always remember noticing four things as he entered the Condor.

One: A turtle had been crushed by some ship or skyride that had passed by ahead of them. The poor thing. He didn't realize then, but it was an omen.

Two: There were rusty picks and shovels leaning against the ship. Peculiar. He decided he'd ask Piper about that.

Three: Trash was strewn all over the ground around the Condor's entrance. Radarr must have gotten out and gotten into the trash. Again. Aerrow sighed. When Radarr made a mess, it was his responsibility to clean it up. It was then he wished that he had woken the little guy up before he went out. Then Radarr would have been within him instead of in trouble. But Aerrow had let his co-pilot sleep.

Four: Radarr wasn't waiting for him. He was probably inside with the others, maybe sneaking some of Piper's sandcakes.

Both boys knew something wasn't right has soon as they stepped onto the bridge. Everyone was quiet and melancholy. All eyes turned to them when they entered. Aerrow could feel the shock and fear as it filled the room like a dark fog. He searched each face.

Stork's face spoke of doom, but his voice, for once, was silent of it. Junko looked as if he had been crying, and he still continued to sniffle. Aerrow finally looked at Piper sitting in one of the chairs in the corner, and their eyes met. Those eyes scared him. He looked away quickly and glanced around for Radarr's expression. Surprisingly, he wasn't room. Odd . . .

Piper stood and walked toward him. "Aerrow, we need to talk. Actually," she said, taking his arm, "let's go sit down."

Finn looked confused as Piper led Aerrow away, but he was soon stopped by Junko and Stork from following. Stork whispered in his ear. Finn's eyes widened.

Piper sat Aerrow down at one of the couches surrounding the round meeting table. Aerrow played with his hands, knowing something was very wrong. Death was in the air; he could feel it. Was one of their friends lost? He heard Piper pull up a chair and was surprised to find her take his hands in hers. "Aerrow," she began, "this morning, after you had gone out, Starling came by and asked me where Radarr was."

Aerrow's heart stopped. No. He could see what was coming, and he didn't want to hear anymore. He wanted to get away.

"He left right after he woke up, and I hadn't seen him since then," Piper continued. "I told Starling that you hadn't taken him with you, and he was probably out getting into trouble, as usual when you're not here."

No. It couldn't be true.

Piper took a breath. She knew that Aerrow knew, but she still couldn't bring herself to say it. "Aerrow, Starling found a furry animal on one of the side streets not far from town. We couldn't tell what the creature was." She shifted uncomfortably at the horrifying image. "It seemed to have taken a head-on collision with a skyride. But," she stammered, on the verge of tears herself. "It was him. It had his uniform. Aerrow . . . Radarr is gone."

No.

"I'm so sorry," Piper gasped, holding back her own tears.

Aerrow didn't know what to say, what to feel; the world had stopped. He wanted to burst into tears, but he couldn't. All he could think was: Gone? Radarr gone? No more Skimmer rides together? No more playing games and goofing off together? No more nights alone in my room with the only one who truly listens and understands? It wasn't possible. It couldn't be.

Aerrow pinched himself, ready to wake up from a bad dream. Nothing happened.

After that, everything was a blur. He remembered the others crowding around, perhaps telling him how sorry they were and how they shared his sorrow, but he didn't hear what they were saying. He had to get away somehow, get away from this. Piper's hand had been on his arm, but he brushed it away.

The next thing he remembered was being in his room—their room. Alone. Without him.

Aerrow took a deep breath. His friends were probably wishing to comfort him and definitely shared his pain, but right now, he need time. Time to think. Time to grasp the facts. Time to admit the truth. Time to mourn. Time to deal.

Time to accept.

Aerrow's eyes scanned the room. He could see the place at the edge of the bed where Radarr liked to sleep. He looked at his pictures on the wall. He had a picture of Piper, Junko and Finn laughing, Dove . . . no Radarr. Why hadn't he put up a picture of Radarr? Because it seemed I didn't need to, he thought. He was always here.

He walked toward the dresser. He and Radarr both had very few possessions. They had both been orphans, alone and without family until they found each other. Now Aerrow opened the drawer that belonged to Radarr. A couple of Radarr-sized outfits were in it, as well as all of his little trinkets and artifacts that he loved to collect. Among his prized possessions were two pictures. Aerrow picked them up carefully, treating them as if they would dissolve in his hands if he didn't.

One was of that hen Radarr simply adored, whether he ever admitted it or not. Briefly Aerrow wondered how she would feel about this loss. How would she take it? Great, he thought. Now I'm feeling sorry for a chicken. All the same, he couldn't see a difference between chickens and humanoids in feelings of grief . . . except for maybe the fact that he eats chickens and not humanoids.

The other picture made Aerrow's stomach turn uncomfortably. It was a picture of him and Radarr together, smiling at each other as Radarr hung from the Sky Knight's shoulders. It was right after Aerrow had been knighted, and they had been feeling full of high spirits and celebration. Aerrow closed his eyes. Never again could it be like that. Never again.

He carefully put the pictures back and was about to shut the drawer when he stopped as something soft brushed against his skin. He looked a second time. A clump of sky blue fur was stuck between the drawer and the dresser. Radarr's fur. He must have once shut this on himself.

Aerrow reached down and tickled his fingertips on the tiny hairs. Gently he pulled the fur from its trap. Sitting on his bed, he rubbed it in his fingers. It was soft—softer than the finest silk. It was warm—warmer than a winter coat on a summer day.

Aerrow was numb. He felt nothing, no sorrow, no anger, no bitterness, nothing but shock. And so he didn't know why or how it happened, but it did.

For the first time in over a year, Aerrow cried.