Spoilers: Through "Cry Your Name"

Rating: PG

Notes: Gahhhh. That's all I have to say.

For Nace, because no one should have to lose faith like this.

-- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster
--Elizabeth Bishop

It was quiet. She was surprised, how quiet it was. Maria's voice, heart-breaking in the way it wavered in song, had finally stopped. Now, she clung to Michael and her mother, the same crumpled look that had been on her face for days. Liz wondered sometimes, if Michael had even left Maria's side. Maria's dorkbutt had grown a lot. They all had. But that happened, sometimes, when someone you loved died.

The scientist in Liz refused to believe that Alex's body was in that narrow coffin they were putting in the earth. It was almost tempting to believe that, at any moment, Alex would walk out, beaming his mega-watt smile, giving his double dodgeball thumbs up. Someone that vibrant couldn't die. Shouldn't die. Just like that night with Grandma Claudia, when Grandma Claudia told her to follow her dreams where they took her. What was so great about leaving normal? Normal meant that her boyfriend wasn't kissing his girlfriend from another life. Normal meant that her best friend wasn't dead.

Roses drifted in a red snowfall onto the coffin. Liz couldn't help wondering what sound the petals made as they hit the dark wood, if they made any sound at all. She had dreams, some nights, of dancing in a cloud of pink rose petals. But these roses were red, like the blood that had covered Max's hand. Like Alex's blood.

Red had always had a strange fascination for her. Not red roses, because red roses looked too much like a flower of death. But blood…blood was the red of life, pumping its way through capillaries and arteries and veins. Blood was the Force that Alex had raved about for the entire summer that they re-released the Star Wars movies, and Maria had run around with a light saber, calling for Darth Dorkbutt to submit to the forces of Hurricane DeLuca.

Blood was the essence that Max Evans had put back into her body and given her rebirth. His silver fingerprints had saved both her and Kyle, bringing them back from the dead. But for Alex, it had been too late. It was always too late. And if life had been normal…

Red was for love. Red was for the love that burned in her heart for Alex and for Maria, her two best friends from the beginning of time, to the end. It was for the blood that still stained the She-ra towel in her bathroom, from the first time she and Maria shaved Alex's legs. It was for the passion that Alex threw into everything, be it his music, his friendships, or Isabel Evans. It was the anger that Liz felt, knowing that her best friend wouldn't be there tomorrow to laugh or to live. Or to love.

Liz watched as Isabel laid a crumpled piece of paper on the coffin. Twisting her head slightly, she could almost make out the faded childish handwriting. "Dear Isabel, I still think you're beautiful. And you're really nice when you're not around Gracie and Maggie. I had fun being in class with you this year. You're pretty, both outside and inside. Love, Your Secret Admirer."

Red was the color Isabel's pajamas had been, at a slumber party a long time ago, when Max first brought Liz flowers for her birthday. Red was Alex's favorite color, even when they were eleven, and he first wrote that secret admirer letter to Isabel. The sun setting over a campfire in the desert had been red, the night they all slept under the stars, and Alex left that piece of notebook paper on Isabel's pillow.

Alex had blushed red, the same color as a radish. His face had burned redder than Isabel's lipstick the day everyone caught them in the Eraser Room. There were so many memories of Alex, and the part he'd played in her life—in their lives… The pictures, the colors, the feelings…

Somehow, Liz made it through the funeral, trying to imagine why someone like Alex would give up on life. Even when he was scared crapless by the thought of evil aliens, Alex never faltered. Through everything, Alex had been there, even when Liz didn't trust herself enough to let the people she loved most in on her secrets. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Not now.

She found herself looking at the abandoned pool in the Whitman backyard. Dead leaves clogged it. No one had gotten around to cleaning out the filters yet. The figure of Alex's tall, lanky father stood at the edge, staring into the same chlorine depths. Liz wondered if he saw things in the water, or if he was just looking for answers. Mr. Whitman had never been as warm or friendly as her dad, but when Mr. Whitman opened his arms, Liz didn't hesitate in going into them. This was her best friend's father. A man who had watched her grow up side by side with his son. A man who had just lost his only child.

Like Alex, Liz's arms could fit around Mr. Whitman. He had the same wiry strength, and the same smell of deodorant and Tide. Even the way his smile creased his narrow face—Liz could see a lot of her best friend in his father.

"He loved you both," Mr. Whitman whispered. "He loved you both so much."

"I know." And she did know. More than anyone else ever could.

Red was the color of love, and without Alex, that color would be lacking from her life for a very long time. Liz could feel a door closing in her life. She wasn't quite sure if she wanted to know what was on the other side. A world without Alex almost didn't interest her, if only because it was something she couldn't even imagine.

"I love you, Alex," she whispered, taking a faded friendship bracelet from her pocket. The bright reds and sunny yellows had long faded, and the clumsy knots were beginning to fray, but it didn't matter. Red was the color of memory, bright as the sun, carrying life. And until the blood ran red from her own heart, Liz knew she would remember Alex. And someday, she might even be able to forgive herself for not loving him enough.

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