Throughout the burial Carson was quiet. He knew in times past that it had been commonplace to say something about the departed, to honor their memory in some way as they were committed to their final rest. But what words could really sum up Letto? He had met the mutant early on, before he had decided to become a Strider like Carson. His inability to speak had been frustrating, but Cars had sat with him for the better part of four months. First to teach him how to read and write, and then to teach him sign language. He had learned quickly, desperate for a means to talk to anyone by any means, and ever since he had been loyal and dependable. Even when the time had come for the two of them to go their separate ways instead of Letto trailing after Carson on his patrols they had remained fast friends and effective partners in the battlefield.<br/><br/>As the dirt was thrown down over his tightly-wrapped body, Carson's hands moved over his chest.<i>Goodbye, friend. My heart aches.</i>He turned back with Malia, but as she spoke he let the others move past them. He was mindful of the looks he got; Letto had been well-liked, and it would be easy to blame Carson for his death. Maybe not rational, but grief was by its nature irrational. He didn't look at her when she asked, and for a moment contemplated simply lying and saying that he was. He watched the black smoke roll from the burning grounds and thought of Max and Sarah and Letto, all dead in the span of less than an hour, deaths that would have an impact on the world for years and years to come.<br/><br/>"No," he said at last. "No, I'm not okay. I don't know what I am right now aside, though. Everything's... shut down. My friends, my family, my army, my home... everything's been damaged, today. I thought we were safe here, safe from anything and everything, but all it took was one misguided boy to bring that illusion to an end. One misguided boy, and one girl who never had a chance to be normal her entire life." He scoffed. "And now I find out I have an aunt, too. Another Strider. Another combatant in a war that I never wanted, which followed me from my homeland. A war started by my father, that killed my mother. And now my brother, and my sister, and--"<br/><br/>He cut himself off sharply and took a deep, steadying breath. "I'm not worried about the imbalance, that much," he said after another moment or two. "Today was... chaotic... and I think everyone's a little off balance after that attack. But do get it checked out." He squeezed her hand. "I don't know what I would do without you, Malia. Now or ever." He looked at her, and after unloading a bit of his baggage his eyes had some light in them again. "Let's rest. If my aunt comes asking for me we can tell her to piss off until we're a bit less tired and sad."