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A Delicate Machine
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No one wanted to be alone. No one wanted to die alone. Funnily enough, Cass would have thought that'd be much preferable to the alternative. Jane hadn't died alone, after all. She'd died in the company of someone who had not only hated her, they had hated the idea of her existence. Was all-too-human malice really preferable to an quiet, apathetic emptiness? Wouldn't it be better to be left alone with your last thoughts? It was hard to think of anything more personal than death, after all. One last soliloquy to put the finishing touches on your life; one last portrait engraved in your eyes.

Even if you did have the chance to be surrounded by friends and family as you faded, why would it be desirable to accept their tearful embraces, to grant yourself a few transient moments of comfort at the cost of forcing them to witness your death, see the person they loved change at once into a thing; nothing more than an abandoned mass of meat and bone? It wouldn't make a difference to the newly departed you, but it'd stick with them for the rest of their lives.

A contradictory thought, considering how Cass had encouraged them to stick together, an action that'd ultimately only increase that chance of watching each other die. They knew it was selfish, but they still had no real desire to wander off on their own; to abandon Trav before he could be hurt by their inevitable loss. If only they knew when they were going to die, then Cass could just make an excuse and duck away when the time came; get the whole ordeal over with without impacting anyone else.

In the end, all that mattered was that it seemed like both Wade and Irene were sticking around. As a group, they quietly introduced themselves. Whatever talk followed next was simply a preamble for the finality of

((walking away and leaving Jane to rot.))
a tribute for the dead and dying

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They Stumbled Into Faith and Thought · Crematorium Gardens