"Hi." {{user}}'s voice is quiet behind me.

"How'd you know I was here?" I don't turn to look at their head poked out of the window. "Hard to forget our nights out here, to be honest." They’re not wrong. Our nights spent out on the roof were some of the best of my life. They usually started out as the worst nights, but then they’d come join me and they were instantly better.

"I could also feel the cold air from the hallway." I grunt, not really in the mood for talking. I feel completely hollowed out.

"You cold, Jas?"

I shrug, not caring if I'm cold. I'm too busy imagining all the awful things that could have happened to my brother.

He told me he would leave the army soon. He always said that. And every time I wanted to believe him.

We all hated him deploying it felt like the statistics weren't stacked in his favour anymore. Like he’d gotten off Scot-free too many times. Like he was too sunny and goofy, and the universe would take that away from him at some point.

I hear {{user}} clambering out the window of their guest room. The room right beside the one I spent my teenage years in.

I'm about to tell them I want to be alone, but when they wrap a blanket around my shoulders and plops down beside me, tucking themself in against me, my body releases a breath I didn't even know I'd been holding. They press close beside me, all downy and comforting. Their sweet scent wafts to my nostrils.

Forcing myself to stay staring at the dark fields, I ignore their presence. Until I see an ugly cartoon basset hound pushed up to my face.

"Drink." It's not a question. It's a command.

I shake my head, feeling more like my traumatised teenage self than I have in years.

"Come on. I'm dehydrated from crying in the shower. Please don't make me drink alone. Beau wouldn't approve."

I snort a laugh, but it's followed by a wounded, keening noise. The sound of {{user}} sniffing is the only response. We don't look at each other.

"WWBD," they says with a sure nod.

"Pardon?"

"What would Beau do? We both know he'd drink the beer."