I love how stories can take on a life of their own when the world and characters are well developed (and I'm not claiming any credit for either of those here).

Originally I had intended this chapter to go in an entirely different direction but as I started writing in my notepad both Rachel and Tobias made it quite clear to me that they weren't ready to go where I intended to take them. I am not ashamed to admit that they know best.

The usual copyright BS. I don't own Animorphs and I ain't makin any money off this.

~The Last Ronin~

I wake up with a mouthful of moldy hay and quickly spit it out. Ick, where am I? Sitting up I look around and the previous day comes rushing back to me.

A long story: the construction site, Andalites, Yeerks, morphing, a three year secret war that I didn't survive. A park containing a memorial to a dead girl. Words carved into the stone face: "In loving memory; friend; daughter; soldier; Hero". A woman clutching her child and weeping her thanks for a girl she never knew.

Me.

Or so I've been told. I still don't remember.

Even this place is something I'm supposed to know, according to a hawk named Tobias. Supposedly this barn was the command center of the resistance in the early days of the war. That's why I'm here. Tobias thinks being around things I once knew might jog my errant memory. It might be working too but I'm not sure. From the moment I stepped into this place I've had the vaguest feeling that something is missing. Fleeting images floating just on the edge of my vision.

I get the sense that these rusty cages should be full, that there should be someone doing something to their occupants. I keep expecting to see someone else laying in the hay I slept in last night. Every so often I see what looks to be a blue...horse? over by one of the stables. But the most constant image is a large bird sitting in the rafters, overlooking the entire scene like some sort of guardian angel.

[What are you thinking?]

I jump as the voice enters my head.

[Sorry. And good morning.]

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. A large bird sits on top of one of the cages, watching me. I hadn't even heard him fly in.

"Tobias," a small smile unintentionally pulls at my lips though I don't know why, "morning to you too."

For a minute I swear he smiles back at me though I can't figure out how a hawk can do that. Perhaps it's something with his eyes.

[Sleep well?] he asks, fixing a few feathers absently.

"Well, it's not the Hilton," I grin and stretch, "but it feels...familiar."

[Oh? How so?] there's hope in his voice and it's infectious. Even though I know he has his own reasons for wanting my memory to return I don't feel angry at him. It just feels good to have someone rooting for me.

"You should be up there," I point towards the rafters.

I swear he smiles again and then flies up to sit where I pointed.

[Like this?]

"Yeah," I nod, "And someone should be sitting here instead of me."

[Marco,] he nods, a somewhat awkward gesture for a hawk.

"These cages should be full...hurt animals?" I squint and I can almost see them, "and someone should be taking care of them."

[Cassie,] he nods once again.

"Do horses come in blue?" even I know that sounds weird. Tobias laughs, not making fun of me, just an amused laugh.

[That would be Ax, he's an Andalite...they do sorta look like blue horses from a distance.] he chuckles again, [We actually tried to pass him off as one a few times.]

"That didn't work, did it?" I think that's what his tone implied.

[No, not usually,] he admits, his eyes smiling again.

"There's someone else...a guy? Standing in the center...there," I point.

[Jake,] Tobias says and I look at him, momentarily surprised by the anger I heard when he said that name.

"You..you didn't get along with him?" I ask. I know my memory is mostly non-existent but anger just seems wrong coming from this boy who is a hawk.

[It's not that,] he winces, [Jake is your cousin and he was our leader. It was his choice to send you alone to kill his brother, knowing it was a suicide mission. He knowingly sent you to die.]

"And you hate him for that?" I don't blame him if he does. How could anyone send another to die like that? It's cruel...and cold. It doesn't sound at all like a person I would have followed.

[No.] he says after several minutes, [I mean, at first I thought I did but really it was myself that I hated.]

"What? Why?"

[Because, you knew that mission was going to kill you,] I can hear the tears in his voice, but of course, a hawk can't cry, [you knew and I didn't see it. Our last night together I should have known something was wrong and I didn't realize...I should have been with you! Maybe if I had been...You were my partner. We survived as long as we did, as much as we did, because we were always there for each other, no matter how bad things got. But when you needed me the most, I wasn't there. I wasn't there and you died because of it.]

He falls silent again and looks away...embarrassed perhaps at his outburst. His words play over again in my head and I feel my cheeks heat. How in the world could I have possibly deserved to have someone in my life who loved...loves me this much? He's been trying to hide it for my sake, to not pressure me, but memory or no I can see it in every look he gives me, hear it in every word he speaks to me.

And God, there's a part of me that wants to deserve his feelings...to be able to return them. But I can't, not like this. It just feels wrong; like I'm trying to steal some other woman's husband or boyfriend.

"But you're here now," I say quietly.

[What?] he ruffles his feathers and looks back at me.

"You're here now...fighting for me," my cheeks heat again; I like the sound of that.

[That doesn't change what happened,] he says bitterly and looks away again, [I'm still too late.]

"Or maybe you're just in time," I say a little more forcefully than I'd intended, "Maybe what happened was supposed to happen."

[What do you mean?] he looks at me again.

"Look, you didn't realize something was wrong and maybe it would have made a difference if you had. But maybe it wouldn't have," I take a deep breath, "maybe had you been with me you would have gotten killed instead or maybe we both would have died."

[I would have traded places with you in a heartbeat,] he says without hesitation and my cheeks heat once more. Damn it I have to stop doing that!

"But what if everything that happened happened exactly the way it was supposed to so that we would end up here, now." I swallow and continue on quickly before I lose my nerve, "What if this is our second chance...to do things right. Yes you should have known something was wrong, but I shouldn't have kept it a secret from you either."

[I hardly think that's a fair trade. You died...]

"And you've been alone all this time," I interrupt, "but we were what? Sixteen and constantly in battle, never knowing if we'd be alive the next day. Of course we clung to each other like our lives depended on it...they did."

[What are you saying?] he asks and I cringe at the anger in his voice, [That what we had wasn't real?]

"No!" I say too quickly and mentally smack myself, I don't want to get his hopes up...or mine for that matter, "But you said it yourself. It was an impossible set of circumstances. If we had both survived then what? How would we have ever known if what we had was real or simply a result of the situation we had been in? We were both desperate for anything to make us feel normal and even I know that that's not a solid foundation for a relationship."

I stop, my mouth dry. I feel exhausted all of a sudden; exhausted and filthy. Slowly I stand and stretch, my body sore from sitting for so long. I tell Tobias I'll be back in a bit, but he doesn't answer, and head into the main house. It's obviously been abandoned for a long time but for some reason the utilities are still on.

Whoever lived here must have left in a hurry because they left a lot behind. I spend a few minutes ransacking some drawers for a change of clothing. Whoever they belonged to was shorter than me and had horrible fashion sense but I manage to find a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that should fit. I'm not so desperate that I'm going to wear someone else's underwear though so it looks like I'll have to make due with my morphing outfit for now.

I turn my attention to some of the other cabinets around the house and try to ignore the mouse droppings everywhere. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Hey, score! An unopened toothbrush and a hairbrush the looks like it's never been used. All right, things are really looking up now.

A short time later I haul my small stash of clothing and personal care products, that might still be useable, into the bathroom and turn on the water in the shower. The room is somewhat dusty but fairly clean...the mice having apparently been kept occupied elsewhere in the house. An old dust rag quickly turns the room into something resembling a bathroom a person would use.

Stripping down I carefully set my shoes aside. Thank God whoever brought me back saw fit to give me those. Then I do my best to clean my socks and leotard in the sink. I wring all three pieces of clothing until they're almost dry and then hang them up on some old hangers.

Content that I've done all I can, I step into the shower and sigh as the warm water washes over me. Wow, I've missed this. It's been, well, years since I had a hot shower. For a moment the memory of another shower and a pair of arms around me tickles the back of my mind. My heart leaps in my chest and goose bumps form on my arms. What was that? I shiver and hug myself...maybe I shouldn't take to long in here.

A while later I step outside, feeling much more like a human being than I did when I went in. The sun shines brightly in the lightly clouded sky and I smile at it. Tobias is waiting for me in his human morph and for a moment my smile gets bigger before falling as I see his troubled expression.

"Feeling better?" he asks, he's wearing some of the old clothing from one of the drawers where I got mine from. Although certain pieces had told me the previous owner was a girl, most of what she owned had been unisex.

"Much," I reply, trying not to let his mood darken my own.

He comes over and wraps me in a tight hug. After a minute of wondering what's going on I return it.

"I'm sorry," he says as he pulls away, "about getting mad at you earlier."

"I shouldn't have said what I did," I begin to dig a hole in the dirt with the toe of my sneaker. Who am I to question what our relationship had been before I died? I don't remember any of it. I'm just basing my guesses off of what he's told me so far.

"No, I get it," he takes a deep breath, "and you're right. We wouldn't have ever known."

"Tobias I didn't..."

"You're right, maybe this is our second chance, to find out, to do things right," he pauses for a moment, "to find out if there had never been a war and we were just a boy and a girl if we could still have been together."

I look at him. He's completely serious but I can already tell that he realizes the one flaw in his plan. This is beyond Romeo and Juliet here. We're not just a boy and a girl whose families hate each other. He's a hawk and I'm a human with no real memory of herself. How can this possibly work?

"We'll make it work," he says, confirming that our thoughts were on the same wavelength, "I'm not going to worry about your lost memory anymore. If it comes back, excellent, if not, oh well."

"Tobias, if I don't get my memory back I don't see how we even have a chance," I'm looking for excuses here and I'm fairly certain he knows it too.

"It's simple," he steps closer, "I somehow made you fall in love with me once before. I'll just have to do it again."

I blush slightly. It's not so simple but I'm going to let him try anyway. Not that he'll have to try hard. I'm halfway there already.

"So with that being said, Rachel, I don't have much to offer but would you like to go out on a date with me?" he holds out his hand.

I look at his face, smiling now, all traces of his earlier, darker, mood gone. No, he's not going to have to try hard at all. I take his offered hand.

"I would love to go on a date with you Tobias," I smile back at him. Maybe we are doomed. But I intend to find out.