carry on my {wayward} son :: kaelen's farewells

In all honesty, I never expected it to end like this. Writing this letter is much harder than I expected it to be, simply because I never expected that I would have so much to say. I'm afraid you'll have to bear with me. I've never been the best with addressing issues of the emotional variety, and I'm nearly as hopeless on paper as I am in person.

The first time I met you, Beryl Shore, I thought that you were the most obnoxious little shit I'd ever come across in my entire life. I liked you immediately. I'd very rarely been close enough with someone to truly call them a friend, but between our shared humor and your attempts to teach me how to play poker (I had the face down, but I never seemed to realize when I was betting too much) something happened. Maybe it was because in the end I couldn't cope with the weight of a whole world alone. Maybe it was just because I looked at you and saw myself - and as any psychiatrist who's looked at my case file can tell you, Kaelen Dempsey doesn't love anyone quite as much as he loves himself. Whatever it was, I'm honored to call you my friend now.

I know you don't think yourself capable of kindness (and you do hide it very well; it's a trick we both have mastered), but one piece of paper isn't nearly enough for me to recount everything you've done for me. You helped keep me from going (completely) insane in the madness that followed Kiera's death, helped martial our cause, helped by sitting there on I don't know how many nights and listening to me rave about everything from battle strategies to romantic issues. Of all the Angels, your halo shines the brightest.

After we

After Colt

After that night

After what happened, something might have changed. It pains me to say that I can't state anything on the subject with certainty. I've been a wreck for months, and I can barely make sense of my own thoughts, much less my relationships. I've let myself slip so far that I've lost sight of the very essence of myself, and it would be a crime to tell you something I'm not sure is true only for the sake of mollycoddling you, something I know you wouldn't forgive me for doing. The only thing I am certain of is that I care about you, a statement I don't reserve for very many people, and that you're one of the best friends I've ever had.

Unfortunately, that friendship isn't enough to keep me safe here. I've always had good instincts, and right now my gut is telling me to get out while I can. It's nothing anyone did, you have to understand that first of all. Anything that happens to me at this point, I brought on myself. I just can't stay in One anymore, not only for the sake of my safety but for the sake of my few remaining threads of sanity. The war effort has been functioning without me for weeks; it can surely function without me from here on out.

And now that we've dispensed with the emotional claptrap, here's the main crux of my letter. I don't mean to lay a burden on you, but there are a handful of things in my absence that I trust you and you alone to accomplish.

Please, keep my family safe. You've met my cousins, I'm sure, and if you've met them then it's probably clear to you that they're more than capable of taking care of themselves. I've worked out a truce that should keep the Morenos away from them, but… I worry. I have good cause to worry. I almost watched Aurora die for no other reason than that I threw myself into a fight that wasn't mine, putting my whole family in danger in the process. I'm not asking you to be their guard dog, and indeed if you tried to be, one of them would likely punch you. Just… check up on them from time to time. Make sure they're as healthy and happy as it's possible for them to be. The Dempseys have lost much, Beryl. I'm counting on you to make sure that they don't lose any more.

And of course, I'm counting on you to deliver the goodbyes that I didn't have time or paper to make into individual letters.

Tell Tarquin to keep the faith, that I've always believed in him and that nothing can stop him as long as he keeps fighting.

Tell Ender not to be so hard on himself. He's a better man than he gives himself credit for, a better man than I'd initially believed him to be. He deserves more than what he allows himself to have.

Tell Bean to stop talking shit to people bigger than him. I won't be around to bail him out of the messes he makes for himself, and he's got too good of a brain for it to end up spattered all over a curb somewhere.

Tell Scarlett that she's stronger than she thinks. I gave her more than her ration of hell, and she came out of it swinging. She'll fight to her last breath, that one. I just hope that she doesn't have to.

And tell dearest Pyrite that she needs to learn how to aim a knife better. A messed-up face isn't death by a long shot, and she's saved me the trouble of my vanity from now on. In fact, I owe her a thank-you. I'll spend much less time fussing about in mirrors now.

I can't begin to articulate everything that I owe you, Beryl Shore. Over the past year, you've been everything to me. A lieutenant, an ally, and most importantly (and most impossibly) a friend. I won't bother telling you to pull out of this fight, or even suggest it, simply because I know you. But take care of yourself, Beryl. And go live a full, wonderful life. You owe yourself that much.

Sincerely,

It seems that every time I leave anyone, it's never possible for me to go about a proper system of goodbyes. I came crashing back into your lives a year ago just as suddenly as I'd left before, and now Fate would have it that I leave with the same unpredictable, jarring motion. It shouldn't feel any different - at this point I feel like I've spent my whole life running - but it does. I'm so tired of having to say goodbye on scraps of paper and snatches of memory, trying to convey things that were meant to be given through touches and smiles and embraces. It hurts more than one might think.

I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry.

The Dempsey family has lost so much, and I'm no longer enough of a prideful fool to hide from the obvious truth that most of everything we lost, we lost because of me. Your spotless reputation, Kiera's life, Aurora's health, Moira and Blair's presence… in some shape or form, they're all gone because of my actions. I can never apologize enough to make up for that. But I can get out of your lives. At this point, that's the best I can offer. It's an established fact that everything I touch has an uncanny habit of dying, and so the best I can do for you, my family, the ones that have touched my life so profoundly… is leave. Ripred knows you all need a chance to sweat out some of the poison after an entire year.

I can't stay here anymore. In all reality, it would have been better for all of us if I hadn't come back in the first place. Our family could have stayed out of this war, and you would all be safe. But as it stands, my own foolishness has cost me almost everything. I lost Kiera, I lost what was left of my sanity, and to top it all off, I lost Colt. I suppose that was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back, and I'm sure you'll all agree with me, seeing as you've been dealing with my increasingly frequent mental breakdowns over the past month or so. No matter how hard I try to focus elsewhere, the memory of him seems to follow me around like a stubborn ghost. Even though he left a long time ago, District One will always hold images of Colt for me, and, pardon the cliché, my heart can't take it. I'm a wreck, and if the god-awful mess Pyrite Shore made of my face a few weeks ago is any indication, staying here in this state will only get me killed. Despite a healthy dose of self-loathing, my last close brush with death has convinced me that I am not, in fact, suicidal. Yet.

I want more than anything to come inside and say a real goodbye to each and every one of you, the first and only one you would have ever gotten from me, but I can't. It's safer for all of you that I not go into details, but just know that by the time you find this letter, I'll be gone. The most I can give you is this piece of paper, and it will never be enough, but you know what they say about desperate times. Each of you has had more impact on my life than you will ever understand, and one letter can't even make a pale attempt at addressing all of it. But I can try.

Uncle Ambrose: You have always been and continue to be the father I wish I'd had. I've never had very many good qualities, but the ones I possess, I learned from you. Tenacity. Eloquence. The power of a good mind. And love for my family. That last one may be hard to believe, but it's true nonetheless. There are a handful of doctors out there who would argue that I don't have the capacity to love at all, but I seem to be in the habit of proving people wrong. You taught me what it meant to do what's best for the people you care about, and even though I learned the lesson too late, I still thank you for teaching it to me. I can never begin to apologize for the damage I've inflicted on our family. You lost a daughter because of my foolish pride. There's nothing I can do to make up for it. I might promise to be better in the future, but I think we both know how that would turn out. Instead, I'll offer you the only certain thing I know at this point - that whatever small positive impact I may have left on this world, it's thanks to you.

Aunt Letty: You loved me when I thought no one in the world did. Be it patching my clothes, making sure I was getting enough to eat, hugging me for no reason, harboring me without a second thought when I came running back into your life, you've always been there. That means more to me than I know how to say. Your capacity for love has always amazed and slightly confused me, but I will be forever grateful that I've gotten to experience it firsthand. Just know that it's okay to be sad. You've lost so much; no one will begrudge you not smiling for a little while. I know you feel like you have to be strong for the others (and you are, you're one of the strongest people I know. I wish my mother had been as strong as you), but they're brave, and they'll help hold you up when it feels like it's all too much. That's what family means. You taught me that.

Moira: I don't know if you or Blair will get the chance to read this, but if you do, there is one thing I have to say to you both that I can't stress enough - come home. It will be easier for you to both live here now that I'm gone. Your family misses you. Your family needs you. A house divided has no hope of standing, and the Dempseys know that better than anyone. We're the patron saints of broken homes, but it doesn't have to be that way. We're broken enough with Kiera and Siberia gone. Don't make us lose you and Blair too. You're smart, Moira. You're one of the smartest people I've ever met. You know how the game works. The world has the board stacked against the Dempseys already, and we're doomed to lose if we have two of our most valuable pieces out of play. I regret that the only bonding I ever did with you was over a chessboard, but in a way, it gave us an understanding that's rare anywhere else. Come back to the game, Moira. Despite what you may think after everything, we both know you can't stay away forever.

Cora: I know. I've always known. And I'm sorry. I hate to leave you with this, but it's something you have to know. It was never like that, Cora. You've been many things to me from the time we were children - most importantly, my best friend. Before I left last time, I was frantic and confused, I didn't know how to say goodbye to you, and so I gave you what I thought you wanted. But now, truthfully, I'm telling you what the case has always been. I'm so sorry. Believe me, I understand what it's like now. I know it must have been hard, watching me with him, but at least you can have the satisfaction that he's gone. If you're going to be miserable, then so will I. Vengeance brings its own brand of comfort, I find. Despite everything, I really do care for you, regardless of what you may believe. Live well, find love, be happy. That is all I could ever wish for you, and if you succeed, I believe you'd be the first Dempsey to do so. None of us deserves it more than you. You have so much love to give, Cora. Give it to someone who deserves it.

Aurora: You have every reason to hate me. Almost every bad thing that's happened to you is a result of my actions. You lost Kiera because I planted my foolish ideas in her head. You lost your health because I wasn't strong enough to protect you. The fact that I've taken so much from you and yet you still call me brother feels like both a blessing and a curse. I know you think that you're nothing but anger, Rora, but you're wrong. You have the ability to love; you simply have to look a little harder to find it. It's been there all along. You love your family. You loved Colt. And even though I didn't deserve it, you have loved me. I can't thank you enough for that. Just know that even though I may have had an awful way of showing it, I have loved you as well. You and Kiera were the sisters I wish I could have had, and the fact that in the end I wasn't able to protect either of you will haunt me until the day I die. So do me a favor to alleviate some of that guilt - stay out of the war. The Morenos will taunt you and try to tempt you into a fight, but don't take the bait. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that pride isn't worth a life, especially yours.

Blair: I know that losing Kiera was the hardest on you. I didn't know what it was like to lose the one person who understands you until I did just that, and now that I feel how much it hurts, the only thing I can really do is apologize. I lost her too, though. And despite what you might think, I loved her too. I suppose I'm not setting the best example here, but you need to understand that running away doesn't solve anything, Blair. Running away won't brink Kiera back. Running away won't make it hurt any less. In my experience, the pain is only worse once it catches up to you. You need to come home. Your parents have been worried sick, and the fact remains that you're effectively homeless in the middle of a war zone. It's not safe. You and I might not ever have been on the best of terms, but the fact remains that at the end of the day, we're family. I don't want to see you hurt any more than your sisters or your parents do. And I think you'll find that if you reach out a little bit, finding people who understand you isn't quite as impossible as you think.

Even with a lifetime of trying, I've come to the conclusion that I'm not who I want to be. I realized some time ago that I wasn't the god I once fancied myself, and now I've let myself down even further with the realization that I'm not even the man I wanted to be. My talent for destruction is still as powerful as ever, and that, among other reasons, is why I've deemed it prudent to get out of your lives while our family is still reasonably intact. I don't know what I'll do. I don't know where I'll go. Admittedly, it's sort of hard to find purpose in anything without Colt. I'd gotten this vision of an idyllic future with him in my head, and now that it isn't going to happen, I suppose I'll need time to re-evaluate. But the time is not now, and the place is not here. You all are the very last living things that I hold dear, and I have come to the conclusion years too late that your best interests mean far more than my own. In all likelihood, you will never see or hear from me again. That might be something saddening, it might be a relief. I don't presume to know. But whatever the case, it's crucial that you understand what the point of this letter has been - to tell you, to tell each and every one of you how much I love you. Even though I might not have said it until now, it's always been true. Stick together, stay safe, and live well.

Love,