Redhawk Caldera start over

The thing was, Charles himself didn't know what he needed right in that moment. He knew what he wanted — to run, run, run, even Bronco's face was just a reminder of something that almost had been, could've been — but what did he need? Charles had little brain space to think about that as the run run run run run run was still chanting in his head and he felt as though he would burst apart at the seams. He wanted to cry and hide in someone's fur but he knew no one was there for that. There was no one who would do that for him, no one that was like that for him. He was alone in his grief.

When Bronco asked if Charles saw, he nodded, tight-lipped, not sure how to tell Bronco what'd happened. What'd really happened. Charles didn't give a flying fuck about Desdemona or Toad or the fact that they died. He didn't even know them very well at all. But Osiris and Leta — no, that was too much.

He couldn't say it, though. He couldn't tell them. Charles shook his head and he muttered under his breath, No no no no, while he tried to stay calm. While he tried to not freak out. While he tried to tell Bronco what he'd seen.

While he tried his best not to tuck tail and run away again, to somewhere where there really wouldn't be anyone to recognise, anyone to remind him of his former life.