The songs that played on the radio were all older songs, songs they'd grown up with as kids in the early 2000's. It wasn't like they could change the station; everyone in the car was too busy wallowing in their own burdened minds. The fog in the air was heavy, but it was nothing compared to the weight that drifted from person-to-person, sucking any traces of joy like a leech. Happy memories appeared in spurts, each one colored with one Richard Spender's aura- his face, his voice, his life, but whatever joy the memories once brought seeped out of their skin and evaporated in the warm circulated air of the car. They all wanted to say something- anything- but there really wasn't anything to be said, not yet. It was too early to come up with clever words of wisdom and too late to talk about feelings. The time would come around soon, but for the moment it was best to stagger in the stillness.

Life, it occurred to them, did not come and go differently for each of them than it would other people. While they knew the world of spirits lied beyond their physical realm, there was little they could say about the place they'd go when their ghosts faded from the place they'd known their entire lives. They'd know the same fate as every other man and woman. There might be flames and red hot dirt and pitch forks, or golden gates where everyone they'd ever missed stood waiting as angels strung harps, or there might have been nothing. The uncertainty of it all was baffling.

Ed pulled up in front of the convenience store, making some comments about Max getting sleep that neither of them would remember by the morning. Max mumbled some half-hearted response and climbed out the door closest to him.

"Aren't you alone right now?" Isaac sounded uncharacteristically calm. Max shrugged and leaned over the open door so that his face was visible. He was sure he looked like hell. Everyone else did.

"Yeah. Dad's outta' town and Zoey's at a friend's place." It was a Saturday, after all.

Isaac nodded and started climbing out, too. Albeit confused, Max backed up and gave him space. "What are you doing?"

"You shouldn't be alone right now. None of us should." He tried to read Isaac like the book he usually was, but his expression was unreadable. All he could see was his own guilt and pain reflected back at him. It felt like it should have blinded him. It would have been better if he was the only one feeling it. Seeing it in the paleness of Isabel's skin and the grimace on Ed's face and the dull grey in Isaac's electric blue pools- it just reminded him he had something to be a little more than distraught about. Ed looked over the shoulder of his seat.

"Isaac's right. Isabel and I have got each-other. You two should stick together for the night."

Max slipped the keys he kept in his back pocket into the sliding door, somehow getting even less joy out of the soft sliding sound than usual. They were greeted by a pitch black store, shelves and shelves of the same snacks and candy bars and canned soups they'd had for years shrouded in shadows. That was where Max found some comfort. It was something normal, something to hold onto even though he felt like his world was kind of narrowing in on him.

He and Isaac began the trek upstairs.

"It really makes you think…" Isaac didn't respond, but Max knew he'd heard him. "Just the other day we were calling him an old man and throwing 'mid-life crisis' around." Max paused and clenched the railing in his hand tighter. "Had I known, I would've called it end-life crisis." It certainly wasn't his best pun in the world, but it got a snort out of Isaac.

They continued in silence until they reached the end of the hallway, prompting Max to take a deep breath before he rattled off the basics about the blow-up mattress and the spare comforters and where they were in relation to his room. It all felt so stupidly mundane for the night of someone's death, like they should have been doing something else- something to honor Spender. Then again, it wasn't like they had anything to honor. They didn't find clothing or limbs or his tool, let alone a body. Max shook the thought off. "It's just, ya know. We deal with all of these spirits and ghosts all the time. All of the tools and auras and rules- it makes you forget we only live once, too." Isaac didn't have a response to that, either, only walking past Max as he opened the door to his bedroom.

Max watched him as he came to a stop in the middle of the room, standing at the side of his bed. Isaac didn't seem like he was paying much attention to anything, no matter where his eyes fell. With a sigh, Max closed the door behind him. Wasn't the entire point of sticking together supposed to be for comfort? Isaac was almost making him feel worse than he had on the car ride home. He cleared his throat, waiting for a response from Isaac. When he received none, he figured he'd start talking anyway.

"Okay, so the door on your left when you're leaving my room is a bathroom. Inside you can find some emergency toiletries and stuff. The door at the end of my bed is the closet. That's where you'll find the blow-up mattress and the-" Isaac twisted around, grabbed Max by his arms and pinned him to his bedroom door, locking him in a hard, frantic kiss. It wasn't even a thought; Max closed his eyes and melted into Isaac and into the door and into his hands. Their lips fell apart, lidded stares communicating the very same need and want Max hadn't even known they'd been tugging the leash on for so long. They kissed again, harder than the last time. Max licked Isaac's lower lip, only to find Isaac biting his in response. He moaned and reached up to grab Isaac's arms, finding exactly what he wanted- not sure what- in the way Isaac dragged his short nails along his arms. They parted again to breathe only a second before they attacked each-other's lips ferociously once more. Isaac moaned that time, the hands at Max's arms fading in strength.

Max wrapped a desperate arm around Isaac's waist, pulling their bodies flush together. His other hand reached up and ran through Isaac's hair, fingers weaving through each small strand like the softest quilt. Isaac's hands gripped Max's collar, tugging as he somehow got even closer. It was getting harder to breath, but Max had a feeling Isaac cared even less than he did. He used the hand at Isaac's waist to turn the tables, throwing Isaac against the door and pinning him by the hips. Isaac gasped and wrapped his arms around Max's neck, pulling away to brush their noses together. He was taking long heavy breathes, face as hot as Max felt. Max was, too. Their eyes found each-others and Max saw it again- the same spark he'd seen time after time, only for Isaac to blink it away or laugh it off on a moment's notice. It was right there and it was the only thing, big blue eyes lidded and soft and just so filled with the adoration Max felt. The electricity that'd shocked him when they touched and when they'd kissed on the beach, it was racing through his body with every pulse in his veins.

Max dug his head into Isaac's neck, pressing warm kisses to whatever skin he could find. Isaac sighed and wrapped an arm around Max, leaving the other one to sit at Max's neck. It'd been six long years, six long years that he'd wanted Isaac. He'd had dream after dream about nothing but the touch of Isaac's palms against his, the brush of his lips on Max's cheek, and sometimes the heat of Isaac's breath on his ear. Some nights he woke up with a longing he couldn't quite explain, a feeling in the pit of his stomach that just yearned and begged for Isaac, just to talk to him until he fell asleep to the sound of his voice. Some nights he couldn't go back to sleep. Max opened his mouth, sucking at the nape of Isaac's neck. Isaac inhaled sharply, pressing light kisses to Max's ear because it was the only part of his face he could reach. When Max was sure he had left a mark, he pulled away to start on placing others, biting the skin along the way. He felt Isaac lean his full weight into him, pulling him closer with every breathy sound he made. Max had left three bruises when he pulled away, pressing his lips to Isaac's cheek. "Max…" It was a whisper in his ear, desire ringing in each trembling word. "I don't want to wait anymore."

It was 3 o'clock by the time the movie they'd put on had finished. It was about as helpful as Ed had been expecting it to be- which equated to zero helpfulness at all. When they'd finally gotten back to the dojo, it'd seemed the news had already reached. The only straggling students left did little else but stare sympathetically as he and Isabel trudged over to the living room to wait the worst of it out. Of course he'd known, and Isabel probably had too, that putting on a funny movie wasn't going to whisk away the ever-looming awareness that Spender was gone. Every joke they laughed at came with a little guilt. Everything that reminded them of him left a little pang in the center of their chests. The problem was that there was little they could do to avoid it. Until they slept and took the next few days by the horns, everything was going to remind them of Spender.

He glanced at Isabel, smiling to see her nodding off on his shoulder. He reached down and wrapped one arm under her legs and the other around her waist, hoisting her up and carrying her to the closest bed. She seemed a little more awake when she felt the ground moving beneath her, but not awake enough to stop him. "Hey Ed?" God, she looked horrible. The bags under her eyes had never been so dark, even on the nights she'd stayed up reading until dawn. Her tan skin that felt like silk under his fingers was so pale it made him worry. It was something he'd been expecting, after all she was the closest to Spender, but he hadn't been prepared for it.

"Yeah?"

Her head fell like a heavy box against his chest, the top of her head burrowing under his jaw as she struggled to piece her words together. "I really don't want to sleep alone tonight."

He smiled, nodded, and started on his way up the stairs. "Okay."

The sun was way too bright for it to be an early Sunday morning. Max guessed he usually had his curtains closed for that very reason, but he couldn't be mad at himself because he'd been much more preoccupied with other activities last night. Max ran his thumb along the bridge of Isaac's face, watching in amusement when Isaac scrunched his nose. He looked much more peaceful in his sleep, not throwing temper tantrums and hissing at any jokes made at his expense ever- though, Max thought, those were things he loved about him.

Their legs were tangled beneath the sheets, one of his hands around Isaac's waist. They'd slept like that last night, Isaac's head nestled in the nape of his equally-bruised neck. It still felt so surreal; that'd really happened. Even with the events that'd led up to that point, he could hardly feel anything but the overwhelming urge to replay it all again in his mind, from the first kiss to the last sweet word spoken before they let sleep take them. Max pressed a light kiss to Isaac's forehead. Damn, I think I'm in love. It wasn't like he hadn't known. After the six years of nothing but unfulfilled yearning, it was pretty clear he'd harbored a little more than a crush. He hadn't even had time to really start detesting the idea that he was feeling something mushy and gushy for someone, let alone Isaac. He'd been too busy trying to deny the truth to hate it.

Everything he was doing was so out of character for the guy he tried to present himself as- cynical, cool, sarcastic, distant. Laying there with his arms around Isaac, kissing his face, nestling into him and wondering how he got so lucky; none of those were anything like the man he tried to be. Isaac took all of his anime sparkles and his dramatic affinities and he poisoned Max with it every time they kissed. Was that what it was going to be like from now on, Isaac tearing through his pessimism to bring out whatever the hell this was? He wanted to be irritated with that idea but he couldn't. They'd both known all along his humor was some bizarre defense mechanism, so that probably meant he didn't feel the need for one when they were alone together.

Max sighed and closed his eyes. He wanted to kiss Isaac awake but he also wanted him to sleep because it was probably going to be a rollercoaster kind of day.

Spender was gone- no body, no glasses, no footprints, and no phone. They would've assumed he'd been kidnapped, but the spectral that'd called Isabel had been in such a panic, that would have been a miracle. There was no way to track him, no way to find out what happened to him, and no way of finding whatever spirit killed him. He and Isaac might have gotten it off their minds last night, but he doubted anyone at the dojo had. Ed probably hadn't gotten any sleep and Isabel was probably a mess. She hadn't cried, but he knew that look in her eyes. She'd wanted to. Remembering trudging through the woods for hours, screaming so hard it made his voice hoarse, it clawed away at whatever happiness he'd been feeling earlier. It reminded him why he and Isaac had finally come together, which sucked because that would always be why. It'd been grief- grief for a man who'd been a mentor to both of them.

Max, begrudgingly, slipped his arms away from Isaac and stepped out of bed. His room felt colder to him than it usually did in the morning. I guess being in my birthday suite doesn't help. That wasn't why, and he knew it, but every joke helped. He glanced to his desk at the end of his bed and the mess that surrounded it, stacks of papers on the ground, the chair toppled over, his pants halfway in an open drawer next to Isaac's… He took his pants in one hand and fixed the fallen chair with his other. After the seat was on its legs and not contributing to the mess he'd have to clean up later, he crossed the room to grab new underwear from the drawer on Isaac's side of the bed. On his way over, he noticed the pair he'd worn yesterday hanging indiscreetly from the lampshade on his bureau. With a deep blush creeping upon his cheeks, he took it down and set it in his laundry basket.

Once he'd shrugged a pair on and struggled with his pants and tugged a shirt on he'd cleaned the day before, he glanced around the room. The shirt Isaac had been wearing was in a messy pile with the shirt he'd been wearing at the bottom of the bedroom door. Isaac's undergarments were on the floor somewhere between the bedroom door and the desk. Memories of the night before came flooding back in more ways than one, and he decided his energy would be much better spent on making breakfast.

"Max?"

He glanced over his shoulder to see Isaac at the doorway to the kitchen, sliding the shirt he'd been wearing yesterday over his (bruised) shoulders. Max cocked an eyebrow. "Morning, sleeping beauty." Isaac seemed surprised, but the circle of his lips twisted to become a smirk the same as his.

"You say that like you woke me with a kiss."

Oh believe me, I wanted to, but you're really gonna need the energy today. Max snorted and flipped the omelet he was making in the air, catching it expertly on the frying pan. Well, a true expert might have called it rookie work, but Max was proud of himself for it. "We should head up to the dojo and see how Isabel and Ed are doing." Isaac nodded as the smile fell from his face. Any trace of playfulness that'd been there before seeped away in heed of the oncoming day. The medium padded over to lean against the counter next to the stove, fingers looking to numbly button up his shirt. Max watched from the corner of his eyes, feeling his own mood drifting out of his chest. He was starting to get some unseemly flashbacks and he didn't like it, to his mother's funeral and the furrow of his father's brows and the long nights he and Zoey couldn't stop crying…

He was about to go through all of it again, and Isaac might have been by his side but that didn't make it much better. Death was death, and it would always leave a healing hole in a person.

"How the hell are we gonna make it through this?" Isaac's voice came softly as he buttoned up the last few by his collar. It was starting to hit Max again, too, the realization that Spender was really gone. No more awkward teacher-to-student talks, no more dad jokes, no more "kids" this and "kids" that like they weren't adults…

"We just will." Max flipped the omelet onto a plate, sprinkling pepper and salt over the top before handing it off to Isaac. The bright blue eyes that looked up at him seemed duller, nervous, maybe a little scared again. All Max could do was smile and shrug.

Isabel felt empty, something strangely familiar. It was the same feeling she got when she read a really good story. She'd read the last word and her love for the cover and all the pages in between would come to an apex of emotion. That, of course, meant stewing in it obsessively for thirty or so minutes, but then the feeling would be gone. She'd feel all of the happiness and adoration she'd felt die in her chest, like a flame being snuffed out. Her legs and arms would become weights, and she'd be left yearning to feel that passion again. It'd churn in her stomach and squeeze her heart, leaving any and all attempts to feel just a semblance of what she'd felt before unrewarding. The feeling usually wore off in an hour, but this feeling loomed over her much longer.

There were no breaths of air where she felt normal again, no moments where she could see a crack in the metaphorical wall or the turn of a knob on a door. Even sleep brought little release. She dreamed about all of the times she'd grown to love Spender as her older brother, all of the times he defended her and cared about her and scolded her and told her stories and picked her up off her knees when she was so tired of trying to be a prodigy. They were all blowing up in her face every time she came to remember them. Things from years previous she'd never think of on a good day were tugging on every string knotted in her chest. Every nice thought she had was ruined by the reminder that he was dead.

She cracked open her eyes to find Ed staring back at her, his head resting above hers on the pillows they shared. He was smiling, but she saw the apprehension in him. She knew him too well. "Sorry to wake you. Isaac and Max texted me a while ago and said they were on their way. We might wanna get up."

Isabel grunted, closed her eyes, and dug her head further into the pillow. "I don't want to."

"Izzy…" He'd had his hands at her hips, but they slowly traveled up to her waist. The feel of his fingers brushing against the little skin her t-shirt left open sent shivers up her back. "Are you sure?"

She hummed and nodded, partly hoping he'd stay there with her. It hadn't been a really long time since they'd slept in the same bed together, yesterday cited, but it still didn't happen often. Sleeping in the same bed brought a sort of comfort little else did. Not only was she much calmer when they slept together, but she fell asleep faster and woke up feeling better, too. She wasn't going to ask him to stay because he was very clearly awake and probably bored out of his mind, but that didn't keep her from hoping. Ed leaned over and breathed into her ear, sending even more shivers down her spine.

"Maybe you just need something to wake you up a little…"

Isabel inched her eyes open when she felt the heat rising in her cheeks, welling in her chest, and coloring her entire body. Ed's fingers tipped and tapped her waist all the way down to her bare skin.

She never really had dirty thoughts. It just wasn't a thing that occurred to her on the daily. Hot men walked by, but she didn't necessarily want them tossing her anything, anywhere. That said, she had no idea what Ed was thinking and what his intentions were. She'd been so caught up in her mind, in herself and in the thoughts of loss that chased her in circles, so caught up that she wasn't thinking straight. It didn't help that she was stuck between reality and dreamland, because the hot breath in her ear influenced a swarm of new equally-irritating thoughts to cloud her head.

Unlike her, Ed's inner theater was playing a very PG-rated movie, because he started tickling her.

Immediately her eyes were wide open and her heart was racing and she was laughing so much harder than she thought she could for a long time. "Ed!"

"Say you'll get up, then, Izzy!"

"St-stop! Oh my god, stop!"

She reached up and started beating against his chest with her fists, earning nothing but laughter. She squirmed and cried and begged for him to just stop tickling her so she could get back to sleep, but he increased the tickles every time she did. "Ed!"

"Say you'll get up!"

"No!"

"Say it!"

Isabel snorted and thrashed about, but no matter where she moved, his hands followed. "Fine, okay! I'm awake!" He wasn't going to stop anytime soon and she pretty much felt wide awake, so the only sensible thing to do at that point was to give in. Ed chuckled and rolled onto his back, bringing her to lie on top of him. Her knees fell to either side of his legs, her forehead laid precariously on his chin. Isabel brought her fists down upon his chest, playfully light taps everywhere she could manage. "You ass!"

"What else was I supposed to do? Let you sleep like a good friend would?"

She turned her gaze on him, the tips of their noses just barley touching. She tried to catch her breath again, and she felt Ed doing the same. She supposed she'd wildly misjudged the persistence of the gloom she'd been feeling. Usually it would've taken her days, weeks conceivably, to start laughing again, but she'd completely forgotten to figure Ed into the equation. Yes, Spender had always been there to comfort her and make her feel better with dad jokes and jokes somehow even worse than dad jokes, but Ed was too. Even when Spender wasn't, Ed was there to put a smile on her face and cheer her up when she felt like curling up and crying. It made her heart ache. He was suffering too, he had to be. Spender was his friend and teacher and brother, just as he'd been hers. Even with the weight that was on his shoulders and the guilt, he must have felt same as she did. But he was still trying to make her laugh. Her gaze found his as they took their last deep breathes, his eyes as wide and giddy as the smile on his face. It was her favorite look on him.

They came to sit up at the same time, eyes on each-other with the rest of the sheets they hadn't knocked off already falling to the floor. Isabel's arms slid over Ed's shoulders, locking behind his neck. Her heart was still racing, but it had nothing to do with her shallow breaths.

Everything made sense with Ed, always had. Sitting there in his arms, feeling the heat of his breath on her lips and the twitch of his fingers at her waist, sitting in his lap as though it wasn't the first time- her pain was dwindling, if just for the moment. She didn't have to think about it, didn't have to try; she just felt the world fall into line with him. Nobody else had ever made her feel like that- safe. She'd always been a capable woman, somebody who could handle her own weight and protect herself, but with Ed she just didn't need to. She wanted to kiss him, wanted to let the world around her go just to see what it felt like. She loved that goofy smile and his obnoxious laugh and the tender touch of his hands on her back when he held her. She loved it when he got jealous and clingy and nervous, when he held her hand a little tighter and pulled her a little closer to him and a little farther away from the 'competition'. She loved when he got protective and fought for her and fought beside her with balled fists and a bloody battle grin, because those moments made it just so clear that he adored her. When he got dangerous and he scowled and sneered at his enemies, it made something stir within her, made her feel like she was capable of anything because she had him by her side. It was simply because they were together and everything was okay.

She loved him. The realization came slowly, but she hardly felt surprised, because of course it was Ed. Of course she loved him. Who else? No other man made her smile like he did, or made her knees quiver and her stomach flip and her laugh an octave higher. Even then, with a weight she'd never bared before laying upon her shoulders, he had her lips twitching and tugging into a smile. Ed tried to say something, but she saw him bite whatever lay at the tip of his tongue. He stared up at her with a face torn between giving her that small kind smile and falling into a frown that clued her in to just how serious he was feeling. His gaze begged a silent question and, while she wasn't sure what it was, Isabel nodded and pressed her forehead to his.

She'd follow him anywhere, do anything anytime.

The fingers stopped twitching at her waist, instead tightening and pulling her closer. Ed sighed and parted his lips again, inching closer tentatively. Their noses brushed together again. Isabel closed her eyes and matched him, because they were one in the same.

"Yo, Isabel? Your nerdy teammates are here." There was a loud knock at her bedroom door, probably more like rough pounding. Ed was so startled that he threw her off of him, sending her twisting onto the carpeted floor of her room. Isabel yelped and he squeaked, either way it left them feeling undignified and mortified. "I let 'em in already. Your bestie's not answering his door, so it'd be awesome if you didn't kill me for this."

"Thanks," Isabel mumbled and grunted as she came to sit on her knees, rubbing her nose which she hoped wasn't bruised from the face-to-floor impact "I'll be right down."