Young Writers Society

The room was dark, but when she flipped on the lights, James could see that she had a fairly simple - and small - room. There was a bed in the corner, and her desk was in another corner with neatly stacked papers. The wall, however, was what captured his attention.

It was littered with photographs. Some of it was in black and white, but others were printed in vibrant colors. There wasn't an order to them, and she seemed to pin some on top of others when she ran out of room. Half of them were of nature, mostly of flowers.

The other half, however, were of people. There were some people he didn't recognize, but James was able to recognize the majority of them since they came from the council. There were plenty of pictures of Katya being silly and with different hair colors, and there were plenty of serious - and unflattering - photos of Zameer. Some of the pictures were of him looking like he wanted to reach over and take the camera away before she took the shot. There were also plenty of candid pictures of Hendrik, some of which he dressed up for as he posed. There were more candid pictures of him with animals, though. The most candid person happened to be Mel, who was laughing and smiling in the majority of them. Tula seemed to have a gift of capturing her and the others when they weren't looking at the camera so she could get a natural, candid shot. She even managed to capture Malkiel smiling a few times, and he noticed that there were photos of him and Mel together, posing. There were few photos of Alistair, but the few photographs he did manage to find of him, he found him stiffly standing next to Oliver. They seemed to be the only photographs of Oliver.

That's what she meant about people making expressions when they thought no one was looking. She took photos of those moments to capture them forever.

James also noticed that there pictures of Evaline. She wasn't ever looking at the camera, instead being caught gazing away and faintly smiling as she looked at the ground, unaware that Tula took her picture.

Tula stood next to the wall, quietly inspecting it as well. She slowly picked up a bulky camera on her desk.

"I'm a photographer," she said after she gave James ample time to look through the photographs on the wall. "I like to capture moments worth remembering."

"I can see that," James mused quietly, looking the photos over one last time before turning to Tula.

"Like I said, I think language is mostly expressed by how you show it," she said with a smile.

"It must be nice to keep all of these memories," he said, glancing at the photos again, briefly.

"It is," she said. "But I like sharing. If you want any, you are welcome to take some. I have more than enough."

"I would prefer to keep a memory that's my own, but I appreciate the offer," James said with a small smile.

"Fair enough," Tula said, gazing at the wall again. "Which one captures your eye the most?"

James scanned the photos again. He knew he was 'drawn' more to the photos of Evaline because he knew her more than the others, but he didn't want to point them out. Instead, he pointed to a picture of Mel laughing.

"You captured her laugh well," he said.

Tula smiled and leaned in to see which one he was referring to, then nodded. "It's easy to get a candid shot out of her," she said. "She has a bright smile, and a contagious laugh."

"That she does," James hummed, looking over the pictures again. He pointed out one of Zameer's unflattering candids and grinned.

"I'm sure he doesn't like this one," he said. "But it's funny."

Tula laughed, shaking her head. "The only unflattering photos I put on my wall are of Zameer, only because it annoys him," she said. "And it makes me laugh every time I pin a new one."

James smiled and clicked his tongue.

"And here you were making it sounds like Katya was the only one getting under people's skin," he teased.

"I have a sense of humor, you know," she said with her own teasing smile. "It comes out with the camera."

"Good to know," James said with a fading smile and a nod.

She watched him for a moment, tilting her head again in thought. "Care to pose?" she asked.

"Any pose?" he asked.

"Any pose," she said with a smile as she stepped back to give plenty of room as she brought the camera closer to her chest. "I'll count to three. Are you ready?"

James had only a few seconds to think of something. He could be silly, or serious, or awkward if he didn't do something in time. He decided to do something casual, sticking his hands in his pockets and putting more of his weight on one leg.

Tula brought the camera up to her face as the camera clicked to life. "One... two... three."

He looked into the camera as it clicked, and there was a brief flash.

Tula brought the camera down as it made a few mechanical noises. "Thanks," she said. "It'll take a few hours to develop, but I can give it to you the next time I see you, if you'd like."

James scoffed. "I don't need to keep a picture of myself," he said. "I have a mirror for that."

Tula smirked, letting out a breathy laugh. "Okay," she said, then glanced at the photos again, thinking. "Pick a photo you want to study, and then study it," she said as she took more steps back, closer against the wall.

It seemed that she wanted to take another picture. A candid photo, probably. Or at least one with him looking away.

He turned towards the wall, still with his hands in his pockets, and he looked at a few of the pictures, landing on one of Oliver and Alistair. He thought back to what he knew about them - how the two of them lived in the sectors and smuggled people out.

"Pick the photo up," Tula instructed. "And then relax your stance. Really study it."

James knew Tula was trying to get a candid expression out of him. He obediently relaxed his shoulders as he picked the photo up. He chose to think about how amusing it was that Alistair was so stiff in the photos, but he also wondered if there were other reasons for his apprehension. Maybe something to do with Oliver... or the person behind the camera. Oliver was looking at the camera with a rehearsed smile. James knew how to pick it out because he knew what they looked like, having done them a million times himself.

Without warning, there was a click and a flash.

"Wait," she instructed, and a few moments passed as she seemed to restart the camera. "Okay. Look over here."

The moment James turned to look at the camera, she clicked it again, sending another blinding flash towards him.

"Done," she said with a smile as she brought down the camera. "Thanks. I think you make a good model."

"Thanks," James said simply as he pinned the picture back up on the wall. He was still seeing spots in his vision.

Tula took a few moments to carefully turn off the camera and set it back down on her desk. "You sure you don't want any of those pictures? Or any of the pictures on the wall?" she asked.

"I'm good," he said. "Thanks, though."

If he could refuse at least one gift this whole time, he would.

"Alright," she said with a small smile. "Maybe I'll visit you so I can add Terra to my scenic collection."

"If you want to do that," he said. "I suggest you come close to sunset. I'm sure the view of the sky would be wonderful to capture with your camera."

Tula loosely crossed her arms as she watched him again. "You have a good eye," she said. "I think you'd make a good photographer as well."

James shrugged. "Never tried."

"Care to try now?" she asked as she glanced back at the camera she placed on her desk.

"Well, you'd have to show me how it works," he said. "But sure."

"No problem," Tula said as she picked up the camera again.

She motioned for him to stand next to her, which he did.

"I'm going to strap this on you," she said as she lifted it over his head so it sat heavily around his neck. She took the liberty of taking both his hands so that she could place them where he should be holding it.

"Hold it here," she said softly since she was close to him. "And then bring it up to your face, right here."

She pointed at where he should place it against his eye, but then also demonstrated for him too, leaning in very close to his face for a moment before pulling away, her fingers still at the eyepiece.

James briefly glanced over at her but brought the camera up to his face as she let go. He peered through the little hole, letting his eye adjust.

"I've kept all my settings the same, so it should come out alright," she said.

He then felt her hand on top of his as she tapped a button that was on top of where his hand was.

"Feel this?" she asked. "Press that when you're ready."

He nodded, and found the button.

"Shouldn't I be taking a picture of a person?" he asked, still looking through the camera.

"Mmmhmm," she drew out, and then let go of his hand.

She grabbed the rim of the camera's lense and then gently nudged it in the direction she wanted him to look through. For a brief moment, it landed on her chest, but then she backed away towards her bed, smiling.

"See everything okay?" she asked as she sat down on the edge of the bed, pushing a strand of loose curly hair behind her ear before brushing down her shirt.

"Yes," he said. He hummed for a moment as he walked a little to the side, and then bent his knees slightly to get a better angle. When he pressed the button, it made the same click and bright flash.

"Wait, don't put it down yet," Tula said after he took the photo.

James watched through the lens as she laid on the bed on her side, propping her head up with her hand as she kept her other arm against her hip. She bent one leg as she slightly lifted her chin up at the camera.

"Whenever you're ready," she said.

James spent less time checking the angle for the picture and just clicked the button, and pulled the camera away from his face before Tula could tell him no. He carefully took the camera off his neck and offered it back to her.

"You'll have to tell me if they turned out any good," he said.

She scooted to the side of the bed and motioned for him to sit - or lay, he couldn't tell - next to her.

"You can put the camera down," she said. "I'm sure they turned out good. You have a good eye."

James walked slowly over to the desk, setting the camera down gently. He lingered by the desk as he turned to look back at her.

"I wouldn't speak too soon," he said. "My eyesight's pretty poor, so that's likely a hindrance to any picture-taking."

"That's a shame," she said. "Maybe you should come closer so you can see."

James didn't know how it escalated to this. Maybe he never should have followed her into her bedroom in the first place. That was his first mistake.

"I... think I'm okay," he said, eyes flicking to the exit. "Over here."

Tula pursed her lips, propping her head up again on the bed as she looked up at him. "No need to be such a prude," she said. "I've heard you were tense. I could help with that, if you'd like."

James laughed, just a little. Nervously.

"I think I'm still recovering from the massage chair," he said. "No thank you."

Tula watched him again, carefully. She always seemed to be studying him. Perhaps it was her photographer's eye.

After a long pause, she sighed and then sat up, putting her feet back over the bed and on to the floor.

"Fine," she said defeatedly. "Thought you'd like a little fun, but I'm not going to beg you for it."

And James was grateful for that.

"I hope..." James said stiffly. "I didn't mislead you."

Tula smirked as she stood up. She walked past James towards the door, but not before letting her hand dance across his chest in one swoop.

"No," she said, opening the door and gesturing for him to go ahead first. "It's not like I'm looking for a relationship." She paused. "Are you?"

James let out a small laugh, still from lingering nerves.

"No," he answered as he stepped out the door.

"Fine by me," Tula said, stepping through and closing the door. She turned back towards him, leaning on the door for a moment as she shot him a playful look. "But if you ever get bored and change your mind, let me know."

James felt a switch flip in his brain. He smiled back, feeling a familiar mask fall over his face. This smile was genuine - not as himself, but as someone else.

"Noted," he said.

"I'm sure you don't have that much fun in Terra," Tula said as she twirled a piece of her hair with her finger. "Do you?"

James hummed a high pitch and shrugged as he looked to the side.

"Oh, you know," he said as very-obvious sarcasm leaked into his voice. "It's just riveting watching plants grow in real-time."

Tula laughed through her nose, shaking her head and then standing up straight, bounding down the hall again.

"Uh-huh. Come on, let's get you back to the riveting plants," she said with a smile in her voice.

James followed, picking up his pace so that he walked up beside her.

They walked through the hallways and exited another door so that they were back in the breakroom. Tula pressed a button against the wall.

"Katya, James is leaving," she said.

"Be right there!" Katya's voice said through the button.

Tula sighed, looking around the room as her eyes drifted down to the box with the medicine and the lava lamp.

"I think that's yours," she said, pointing at it.

"Ah," James said. He picked it up and tucked it under his arm.

"I see you're taking a lava lamp home," Tula said, repressing a smirk.

"I..." James started to say, and then sighed. "Yeah."

He didn't feel like explaining that Katya just tossed it in there.

"You are so fascinating," she murmured, keeping her eyes on his face. "Wise, thoughtful, but also a bit childish. It's interesting."

"I like to diversify my assets," he quipped.

"What other assets do you have?" she asked with an amused smile.

"I can do this," he said before crossing his eyes.

Tula narrowed her eyes at him and then let out an airy laugh, shaking her head. "Why didn't you pose like that?" she asked. "I could have permanently kept that memory on my wall."

"I guess you'll just have to keep it in here," he said, tapping the side of his head.



"Lower," she said with a smirk.

James paused with his finger by his temple, and then he narrowed his eyes at her as he dropped his hand to his chest, patting over his heart.

"I'm touched," he said in monotone.

"Please," she said with a smile and half-roll of her eyes. "As if I meant there."

"You left it open to interpretation, so I chose the interpretation," he said.

Tula hummed. "So you're a romantic, even though you're not looking for a relationship," she commented.

James watched her with slightly narrowed eyes and the slighest smile.

"And you like drawing conclusions based on very little evidence," he said.

"Guilty," Tula said with a small smirk as she lifted her hands. "I suppose this means I should gather more evidence."

"Good luck with that," James said, briefly widening his eyes and raising his brows.

Right on time, Katya came skidding down the hall, almost knocking over a box.

"Ready to go?" she asked James as she stood up straight, but then flicked her eyes between the two of them and burst out laughing. "Or am I interrupting something?"

"Not sure," Tula mused, still watching James. "Is she, James?"

"Only a conversation," James said simply, looking to Katya. "I'm ready to go."

"For now," Tula added, barely loud enough for just him to hear. She then brought out a finger under his chin, angling it so that he'd be facing her. "See you later, romance boy."

She held her gaze on him for a little while longer before smirking and pulling away, heading back towards the door for her bedroom. James was relieved that she left.

"So what'd you guys do?" Katya said behind his ear, all of a sudden uncomfortably close to him.

James whipped his head around to her and stepped forward so she wasn't so close.

"Took pictures," he said.

"Uh huh," Katya said flatly. "That was real fast."

"So was your nap," James said.

Katya shrugged. "It's called power naps," she said like it was obvious. "More effective than regular naps. Ever heard of it?"

"Not by that name," he said. "But yes."

"No, you didn't," she said stubbornly. "Otherwise you wouldn't have those ugly bags under your eyes."

James rolled his eyes.

Without waiting for him, Katya turned around and started to walk down the hall, towards the entrance. James followed her, still toting his box with him.

"So is this going to be like, a monthly visit?" she asked him.

"I don't know," James said with the verbal equivalent of a shrug.

Katya hummed. "How soon can someone get pregnant?"

"Katya," James said sharply.

"What?" she said innocently.

James walked a little faster so he was beside her, looking down at her.

"Two things: Stop making assumptions, and keep your nose out of things that aren't your business," he said.

Katya laughed, a little too loudly. "Nah," she said. "You're not the boss of me."

"Then don't expect real answers to your invasive questions," James said.

Katya rolled her eyes. "You're such a bore," she said. "I don't see why anyone likes you."

"Maybe you should ask them yourself, then," James muttered.

"I have," she said stubbornly. "And I don't think you're all that great."

"At least we're in agreement," James said.

"Uh huh. I think you need to go back to the massage chair and calm down."

"Yeah," he said calmly. "I'll pass."

"That's right," Katya said with another small laugh as they passed the rooms. The door was within view now. "You were too scared of a damn massage chair. You're such a wimp."

"Mmhmm," James hummed dismissively.

"If I ask Zameer to take it back with him, would you run away screaming?" she teased with another obnoxious laugh.

"Only if the chair grew legs," he said.

"Or if you grew balls!" Katya quipped back, howling again.

James stared ahead of them blankly with half-lidded eyes and sighed. He had to endure some more obnoxious teasing from Katya before she finally pressed a few buttons on the side, and then the door opened. She opened the door for him with one arm, gesturing for him to exit.

"Here's the exit so you can run away from the chair," she said with a smirk. "Byyyyyye."

"Generous," was James's only deadpan comment as he stepped through the door, and it slammed behind him.

"Katya's great with people, I know," Zameer said blankly off to the side where the awning began. He was bent down with a long-haired dog with a golden coat, panting.

James looked at the dog closely, deducing quickly that it was Sparky.

"Does Sparky like strangers?" he asked.

"Oh yes," Zameer said, motioning for him to come closer. "He's well-behaved and social."

James slowly drew near, squatting down on the other side of Sparky. He offered the dog his hand to sniff before touching him. Sparky didn't seem to mind James's pet, sitting still while continually panting, only blinking when his hand got closer to his eyes. James smiled slightly.

"I think it's good that he sees other people," Zameer said, watching the interaction with a slight smile. "You know, besides me. And not Katya, or even Tula."

"Well, fortunately for Sparky," James said. "I like dogs."

He started scratching behind Sparky's ears, and Sparky closed his eyes, leaning into it. James saw his tail start to wag.

"Good boy," James said softly.

"I've taught him a few tricks," Zameer said, standing up. "Sparky, lay down."

Obediently, Sparky laid down on his chest, tail wagging even more as he looked up at Zameer.

"Good job," Zameer cooed, bending down to scratch his head.

James reached over and scratched the other side of Sparky's head as well, piling on the adulation for the happy dog.

"What a good dog," James cooed.

Zameer spent the next ten minutes showing James a few more tricks, and he let James feed her a few snacks for positive reinforcement. It was still raining, so it wasn't the best weather to suggest to play fetch, but Zameer seemed to be in a rush anyways since he suggested to go back to the bike already.

They both hopped on the bike with their helmets on, bracing for the rain to come through again. Once he verbally said he was ready, Zameer took him through the same backroads again, zooming fast and causing some puddles to fly up as he drove through it. After another twenty minutes, they were back in front of his farm.

Even though Zameer didn't have to, he took off his helmet so he could talk to James in the rain.

"You good?" he asked him.

"Yep," James answered as he hopped off the bike, securing the helmet under the seat while he held the box in his arms.

"Okay," Zameer said, but then paused for a moment. "Well, it was nice seeing you, James. I'll see you around?"

"I guess so," James said with a slight smile. "Thanks for stopping by."

"No worries. Say hi to my uncle for me," he said as he put the helmet back on, gave him a singular wave, and then drove off.

The rain endured through the evening, and James decided to go out into the fields and pull weeds. The rain was letting up in intensity, but it was still trickling down, and he was still getting wet. He didn't really mind it, though. It wasn't too cold, and he'd already been soaked to the bone on the ride back from the visit to Zameer, Katya, and Tula's place.

He was almost glad that the trip was seemingly so inconsequential compared to Henrik and Mel, who both seemed to pry away at him, trying to get him to open up in their own ways.

The conversation with Mel had been necessary, but the one with Hendrik... it sort of just happened. He didn't really want it to. He should've just kept going along with the teasing. Everyone seemed to want to tease him, over and over. Weak man this, baby man that. Wimp, old, ancient, clueless, dumb, dull. The only person who didn't poke at him was Tula, who had her own reasons.

And, well... he wasn't going to think about Evaline.

He collected all the weeds he could find and put them in a compost bin he'd made by the garden. Worms would eat it up in time.

When he got inside, he peeled off his soaking wet clothes and dried himself off before putting on clean clothes and starting a fire. Maybe it was a mixture of being cold from the rain and the new dose of sleep medication, but James felt himself getting drowsy quickly. He hurried to get Sleepy warm, fed, and situated before he laid down to go to sleep.

He just wanted to sleep well for one night. No dreams. No interruptions. No short-lived naps.

But that seemed to be too much to ask.

It was happening again. James tried to focus on anything else, but it was so, so loud. He couldn't ignore it. It was the same dream, over and over, but with variants.

And he was able to get a little more detail this time.

"How could you do this?" Evaline cried out on her knees in hysteria.

This time, the images were jumpy, and the quality was still fuzzy. Their voices even sounded more garbled up, but he knew it was Evaline.

"Evaline, I..." the boy whose eyes he was looking through said, but then he trailed off. He turned to see two more people staring back at him near the doorway.

It was Mel and Alistair. They looked terrified.

He took a step towards them, but they instinctively took a step back.

"Stay away from us!" Evaline screeched.

She yelled something else afterwards, but it was covered by static.

James opened his eyes slowly this time. He'd dreamed this before. It didn't shake him as much as before - not in the same way. His heart was still racing, but he didn't feel like running or fighting.

He could rationalize it away. He could think about this logically.

This must have been the day Alan died. That would explain it. The same memory, over and over. Evaline, being young. The young man, dead on the floor.

And of course, he was looking through the eyes of whomever had killed him.

It made it feel like it was all an accident. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't.

He didn't need to know.

James pushed it out of his mind as the day went on. Isabel stopped by, and James felt a switch flip in his head again. He put on a happy face for her, and they went out into his fields - this time, singing over his plants. She told him he didn't even have to sing about carrots or potatoes. He could sing about whatever he wanted.

He decided to sing one of the songs Mel had given him to listen to. A happier, upbeat one. Eventually, Isabel caught on to the chorus and sang with him.



Two days passed, and he slept dreamlessly, but restlessly. One night there was static, but that was it. It was like his body was still trained, be it by nightmares or paranoia to wake every few hours.

He could feel the sleeplessness starting to wear on him, and he started drinking more of the caffienated tea he had in the morning. Something to give him a little boost. Just to get him out the door. For Sleepy. For Elliot. For the farm. To keep up appearances.

He went out of his way to visit Isabel that Wednesday morning for breakfast, just to prove it to himself and to her that he was okay. She was happy to see him, and happy as always to entertain. It was about 9am when he headed back to his cottage and paused to sit on the rocking chair on his porch.

He picked up a book, but he wasn't really reading it. He let his mind shut off as he stared down blankly into the pages. He flipped the pages periodically, but none of the words entered his head.

He was just pretending. Pretending for no one, because what if someone happened to stop by? What if someone just happened to be watching, or looking when he was unaware?

As if to prove him right, he saw Mel's car drive up the road. A switch flipped again in his head. He put on the face he wore for Mel.

When she parked the car in front of his cottage, she hopped out, first holding a bag in the air. It looked like it could be full of food.

"I come in peace!" she said as she stood up straight so she was in view, smiling. "Sorry for not giving you a warning. Thought I'd surprise you."

James smiled and got up from his chair, leaving his book in the seat. He stepped off the porch and waved as he walked up to her.

"It's a good surprise," he said. "How are things with you?"

"Not bad," she said as she closed the door and started for the steps of the cottage. "Better now that I've seen you again. Ya know, you could have at least pretended to want me to visit," she huffed.

"I don't have to pretend," James said. "Because it's already true."

"Awww," she said with a smile in front of his door. "So I guess this means more surprise visits from me?"

"I would not be opposed," he said with a small smile and a shrug.

Mel hummed. "Noted. Are you hungry?"

"Always," James said like it was obvious.

"Yeah, I don't know why I ask," she said with a laugh.

James led her inside, and they chatted a bit as she laid out some of the food on the table. It was nice to catch up with her, although he had a lot of catching up apparently, since she kept on going. He used his food as a distraction to not always answer or comment, but she didn't seem to mind. And eventually, the conversation fell to how she passed Jack again coming here, and then to some relationship trouble with her (presumably) current partner, Luis.

"I feel like I should break things off, but I don't really want to. But also, I do. Ugh!" she said with a groan, throwing her hands up in the air for extra dramatic effect. "What do you think I should do?"

"I think a better question is, what are the reasons you want to stay with him? Does it outweigh the issues that make you want to leave?" James asked.

Mel hummed in thought. "I just feel like the spark's gone," she said. "And it's not exciting anymore. Things are boring now. You know?"

"I think that's inevitable in any relationship if you're in one long enough," James commented. "If you're not interested in something long-term, it might be best to cut it off."

Mel slowly nodded her head. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right," she said. "I'm not really looking for anything long-term. So I guess Luis wouldn't be too upset if he sees me with the ex I was with before, right?"

"That all depends on Luis being on the same page," James said. "Have you two talked about your relationship and your expectations from each other, or are you only assuming he's not interested in something long-term?"

Mel let out a short laugh. "Oh, he's not interested in anything long-term either. I think." She paused, pursing her lips and humming as she looked around the room. "And, uh... I may have already got back with my ex already... Hah."

"Cheating?" James said.

"It's not cheating if we were never serious," Mel said defensively.

"Have you heard from his own mouth that he doesn't consider you two serious?" James asked.

"No, but we only got together because we 'cheated'--" she emphasized that word with air quotes, "-- with both of our exes on each other. So, there."

"Just because he's cheated before doesn't mean he's not worthy of a proper break-up," James said. "You should at least tell him you cheated - or whatever you want to call it. I think it's the respectful and right thing to do, whether you're 'super serious' or not."

Mel let out a small pout but then sighed. "Yeah... yeah, you're right. I'll do that when I leave." She paused, a smirk tugging on her lips as she looked up at him. "I assume you've never cheated or whatever, then?"

James took another bite of food. Conveniently timed.

"No," he said through his chewing.

Mel hummed again, setting an elbow on the table to prop her head up. "I bet you're real popular with the ladies, though," she said.

"I think that's a generous use of the word popular," James said before taking a drink of water.

Mel giggled. "I saw you with Tula's corsage," she said. "So at least, popular with her. But probably also in Nye. Right?"

"For the record," James said. "I think Tula's only interested in me because I can have kids."

Mel burst out laughing. "I'm sorry," she said through a laugh. "This shouldn't be funny... but it is. Why is it so funny?"

"I'm glad you can laugh about it," James said with a sigh. "You don't have to keep turning her away."

Mel calmed down, taking a deep breath through a smile. "Oh, I have lots of experience turning people away. Do you need some help?"

"Nope," James said with a hard 'p' sound as he searched the box for more food, but it was all gone. "I think I've got it."

Mel narrowed her eyes at him again, grinning. "Ohhhhhh, I get it," she drew out. "Mister I-turn-many-girls-away. You're practically an expert."

"Ha. Ha," James laughed sarcastically as he returned his hands to sit on the table. He wished he had something to occupy them as a distraction, but the food was gone.

Mel's grin stayed plastered on her face. "So you don't deny it," she said smugly. "Oooh, do tell."

James looked at her with a tired, unamused expression.

"Yeaaaaah," he drawled. "No can do."

"The women are probably consistently not your type," Mel answered for herself as she started to twirl a curly strand of hair with her finger. "She's probably really loud, and you know, you're soft-spoken. And she probably never stops talking, and --"

She stopped herself as realization seeped in that it almost sounded like she was describing herself.

"You'd turn me down, huh, wouldn't you?" she teased with a smile.

"Mel," James said suavely. "You and I both know we work better as friends."

"So I'm right!" Mel said victoriously. "You turn girls down who are not your type."

"Doesn't everyone turn away people who 'aren't their type?'" James countered. He was the one using air-quotes now.

Mel leaned on the table again, looking giddy. "What's your type, anyways?" she asked.

"I will not give you the satisfaction of describing it," James said flatly.

"Curly hair, green eyes, tall, and observant?" Mel guessed, describing Tula.

"You're funny," James said blankly.

"Stares at you for too long, takes lots of pictures, doesn't listen to others, and wants a baby?" she continued, still describing Tula.

James sighed. "No," he said, sounding a little annoyed.

"A woman who wants your baby?" she went on with a teasing grin.

"I'm sure if there were other men who could have kids around here, I would not be in this situation right now," James said, ignoring her persistent descriptions.

"Hmm, yeah, maybe," Mel said with a shrug. "Or maybe you are her type. And she is yours too, right? Riiiiight?"

James rolled his eyes into the back of his head.

"I am more easily drawn to women with ambition for greater things than getting in my pants," he said.

"Hmm, I see, I see," Mel said with quick nods, leaning a little closer to show that she was paying extra attention. "What else?"

James leaned away just a little, but only for a moment.

"People I can have real conversations with," he said. "Beyond small-talk."

Mel hummed again. "Is this a real conversation?"

"Not the most pleasant one," James said. "But... yes. I guess."

It was a half-lie, really.

Mel nodded, really thinking about this. "Okay. So, what's a pleasant conversation you like to have with women? What sorts of stuff do you talk about that makes you go, 'Hey, I like you'?"

James made a face of mild discomfort, and he squinted at Mel.

"I don't know," he muttered. "Talking about... things they're passionate about, I guess."

"Makes sense," Mel continued. "How often do you talk about the stuff you're passionate about with women?"

"Why does it feel like I'm being interviewed right now?" James mumbled.

Mel giggled. "What? I'm just trying to figure out what I should do with my crazy messy love life. It seems that you've figured it all out already, so..."

James met Mel's eyes with a half-lidded stare, and he slow-blinked.

"Yeah," he said dryly. "I have it all figured out."

Mel slowly nodded. "Yeeeah. I meant, um, with the advice that you gave to me. You seem to know what you're talking about."

"It's easy to give advice," James said. "It's much harder to do it yourself."

Mel's grin slowly returned, and she did a bad job at repressing it. "Waaaait," she drew out slowly. "Have you ever been in a relationship -- besides -- you know?"

"Why, so you can ask about them too?" James said with his eyebrows raised.

"Nothing to ask if you turn them all down," Mel said, still repressing the grin.

James groaned and looked away.

"Yes," he mumbled. "I have."

And he wasn't going to give her any more than that.

Mel glanced between him and the table. "Been in another relationship, or turn them all down?" she asked.

"Yes," he said again.

Mel narrowed her eyes at him. "She was that bad, huh?" she mused. "Poor gal. Had to get--"

"Stop," James said quickly, holding up his hand. "Making things up. I meant yes I've been in another relationship and yes to turning people down. Stop... twisting it around."

"Sorry," Mel said softly. "I'm just guessing. I didn't mean to... strike a chord, if that's what I did."

"Things didn't--" James started, before stuttering to a stop and pressing his lips together in frustration. He huffed out another sigh. "Historically, my relationships end poorly. I would rather not dwell on the details."

"Yeah..." Mel said with a faraway voice, sighing. "I get that. I guess that makes two of us with shitty love lives."

"Yeah," James mumbled. "Two peas in a pod."

Mel looked up at him for a moment, then back at the table as she softly smiled. "Hah. Peas in a pod. 'Cause you're a farmer."

"Glad you caught that," James said, smiling slightly.

"Well... I just hope the next woman would appreciate it too," Mel said with a small smile. "And your sense of humor in general, and your good looks, and your gentleness, and your smarts. But maybe don't eat a lot on the first date."

"I'll keep that in mind," James said.

He didn't think there would be anyone else in his future, though. And he didn't want there to be.

Luckily, Mel changed the subject after that, changing the subject to food, which inevitably led to other subjects from coming up naturally. She left later that evening with a promise to radio him throughout the week if he didn't initiate himself.

That night, though, he made a point to talk to her first. She seemed to appreciate it, and although she started the conversation with small talk of what she did throughout the day, he noticed that she delved into other topics that were more thought-intensive. She must have noted that he liked deeper conversation.

That night, he went to bed feeling empty.

Sure, it was nice to Mel. It was nice to see Isabel. It was nice to see friends.

But if his experience with Evaline taught him anything, his time on Earth wasn't forever. It couldn't be forever. Just like everyone else in his life, he would have to say goodbye again. He couldn't get too attatched. He had to hold himself at a distance.

It wasn't like he wasn't letting himself feel... right? He was just keeping the emotions at bay. A safe, observable distance away. He could acknowledge that they were there, but then move on.

And that was okay. That was how he survived.

That was what he told himself when he went to sleep that night.

It was this dream again.

"Now you try," he said to Evaline in his own voice after he demonstrated how to properly nail down two pieces of wood.

They were making the bookshelf, and she was going to hit her thumb with the hammer instead of the nail. He had seen this already.

"Alright," Evaline murmured, holding the nail still, but then brought down the hammer and hit her thumb again.

"Ow!" she hissed, dropping both items as she brought her thumb up to her face with a pained grimace.

"It's okay," he heard himself say, calmly and gently. "Let's go inside. Put the tools down. Come on."

So it was this dream again.

"No," Evaline said fiercely, turning towards him with emptiness in her eyes. "I'm never following you again."

This... didn't happen. Did it?

"You don't deserve a second chance. I can't trust your word anymore, and I can't trust you," Evaline said cooly, paying no mind to the blood rushing down her arm from her thumb.

James stood still, staring back at her. Staring at her thumb. The words hurt, but it almost felt right hearing them. It confirmed everything he already thought.

Evaline kept speaking, but her voice began to morph.

"I can't believe you lied to me," she said. It was two voices overlapping. Evaline, and someone else's. He recognized it after a moment. It was Bella. He watched as the scene around them shifted, like a picture coming into focus.

Evaline's face disappeared, and Bella stood in front of him. Her thick black hair was pulled back into a high ponytail like it almost always was, and she was inching closer to him, backing him up against a wall.

"This whole time? You couldn't have just told me who you were?" Bella went on, her voice gradually raising in volume until she was shouting. "What you're really like? You had to keep the whole act going, didn't you? Until what-- it all just fell apart? What were you waiting to break first? Me? Or you?!"

She lunged forward, grabbing him by his collar, and as she pulled him, her face was replaced with another, like it was superimposed over hers. It looked wrong. Unsettling. Unnatural.

Eliza's face leaned forward and whispered into his ear.

"You've really changed," she said as her hand moved up to his neck. "The badboy criminal who doesn't know how to love anymore. Broken. I think I like it better."

Her hands wrapped around his neck, and he was thrown to the ground. Everything around him shook, and for a moment all he could percieve was darkness. Then, there was a light. A figure came up to him, holding a dimly lit lamp. It felt like he was on a cold, hard floor. He could smell the must of water that had been sitting still for too long. Faint drips. Faint footsteps.

Then Carter, with his face half-lit by the lantern that he held in his hands. He looked disappointed.

Betrayed.

"Don't break your losing streak now," Carter taunted. "You were so close to-- oh, wait. What was it you were trying to do again? Start a war? A revolution? Stop an evil regime?"

Carter tapped his chin mockingly.

"And now you're gods knows where," Carter said as he leaned down, setting the lamp beside them. For some reason James couldn't move. He was paralyzed. Glued to the floor.

"Doing gods knows what..." Carter went on. James watched as Carter pulled out a dagger from its sheath, and played with it between his hands, letting the light of the lamp glint off the blade.

"If only someone would be so kind to put you out of your misery. You need a real friend to do that," Carter said with a sickening smile. He grabbed James's limp hand and brought it to the dagger. Carter held his hands over James's, and lifted the dagger just over James's chest.

"Let me do you the favor."

And then the dagger plunged through his heart.

James couldn't breathe. His chest hurt like it was collapsing in on itself, and when he opened his eyes, he still couldn't move. His whole body was stiff, and everything hurt. He gasped for air that wouldn't come, and he thought for a moment that maybe he was really dying. Somehow, across worlds, Carter had found him. The only friend who'd given him what he deserved.

James slowly moved his hand to his heart. He could feel his joints ache with the movement, like he'd been tensely clenching all of his muscles for far, far too long and he was moving again for the first time. There was no stab wound, and no blood. Only sweat and his fast-beating heart which he could feel thumping in his skull.

He couldn't keep doing this. He was used to nightmares, but they kept feeling more vivid. More real. The line between undone memories, dreams, and nightmares was starting to blur. He couldn't tell how much of it had actually happened or not. But technically, none of it ever happened, right? Things that were undone never happened. Not in his current timeline. Just... in some other timeline. Somewhere else.

He couldn't explain time.

James got up out of bed feeling like he'd fallen out of a ship and hit the water on his back. He wanted to lie back down. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to not feel like his energy was slowly being sapped away from him, more and more.

Weren't the pills supposed to be helping? Why did it feel like things were only getting worse?

The next two nights his dreams were no help. He couldn't pick them apart from reality or not. He didn't know if his mind was making things up or if he was really seeing further into an impossible future that never happened. Futures where things went better, sometimes worse, sometimes just as bad but in a different way. It was all blurring together. Everything was a muddled mess.

During the day, he managed to do what he had to do.

Take care of Elliot. Take care of Sleepy. Take care of the fields. In fact, all three were doing better than they ever had before. But James was aware that his 'ugly eye bags' as Katya called them were only looking more pronounced.

He could dress nice. He could look clean. He could put on a smile. But he couldn't hide what sleeplessness was doing to his body.

He wished he could.

He needed to figure out something. Soon.

The next night he dreamed again.

He was back in the cabin. Mel's cabin, the one that Evaline lived in for a brief time years ago. The image and audio was static at first, but with enough focus, he was able to clear it up until it was fairly clear.

He was alone in the dim light. He had to be looking through Evaline's eyes, then.

She was crying. Sobbing. Biting back tears as she wiped her face. His vision went blurry every time she blinked away a tear, but she wiped her eyes enough times for him to be able to see better.

She looked down in front of him. She was clutching the journal. Her journal. It was all intact, in one piece. No pages were torn, and she was focused on one page in particular. One paragraph in particular.

At the back of his mind, James didn't want to read it. But he was forced to, following the eyes of Evaline's.



Spoiler! :
I finally told him, "I think I love you too." But that was a lie. I don't just think so; I know so.

[i]I have loved him for a while now. I recognize that now. I love him so, so much. It hurts. I can barely handle it, and I don't know if he can too.


Evaline bit back an audible cry as she suddenly tore the page out of the journal's spine and then proceeded to tear it to shreds before fiercely throwing the rest of the journal across the room.

A sob hitched at the back of her throat as she kneeled over her knees, obstructing her view as her head was buried in her hands and legs as she rocked herself back and forth. Her sobs were deep and messy as they turned to wails.

Although her view was obstructed, James didn't need to see or even be there to feel the sharp pang of sadness.

James woke up, but he didn't move for some time.

He was too tired to cry. Too tired to run out. Too tired to work up any sort of emotion. His body felt heavy, and his heart felt heavy, and it was like he was weighed down by a pile of boulders, about to crush him.

He kind of liked that image. Being buried. Darkness. Being forgotten.

But Sleepy's hungry chirps forced him out of bed. He got to his feet, still feeling like he was dragging himself from place to place.

Sleepy got water and food. Elliot got the same. He took Elliot for a ride. He even went to see Isabel for a little bit. He didn't know what came over him, exactly, but it had happened many times before. There was a rush of energy that he rode until he said goodbye, and when he got back home, it was all gone.

But that didn't matter.

There were weeds again in the fields. They needed to go. He had to keep up appearances.

James had more tea. Then he went out into the fields and started pulling weeds.

James saw something in the corner of his eye. He knew this was the day Malkiel would come, so even while pulling weeds he was on his guard. It looked like Malkiel was on a large bike, and as it got closer James could hear a faint rumble.

He knew Malkiel wouldn't be interested in small-talk, and he wouldn't be interested in being friends. He stood up from the fields and made his way over to his cottage, where Malkiel pulled up.

Malkiel first came to a complete stop and turned off the engine before he took off his helmet. He looked over his shoulder towards James without hopping off the bike.

"I'm just here to make sure you take your damn pill, and then I'm leaving," he said.

"Great," James said. "One moment," he said as he hurried into the cottage, grabbed the pill, and came out.

"Let me see the pill," Malkiel said skeptically.

James wanted to roll his eyes but he didn't. He walked up to him and held it out in his palm.

Malkiel peered over it and then gave him a sharp nod. "Sleeping pill?" he observed, then looked up at James. "Doesn't seem like it's working well on you."

"Good eye," James said before he plopped the pill in his mouth and swallowed it down.

"Have you been taking the other ones?" he asked.

"Other... ones?"

"Pills," Malkiel answered, his patience wearing thin.

"Once a week, yes," James said.

"I don't believe you," Malkiel said as he narrowed his eyes at him.

"Do you want me to show you the pill box?" James asked wearily.

"You could have thrown it away in the fields," Malkiel said.

"If you ask the others," James said. "They've made sure I've taken the pill too."

Malkiel was watching him carefully. "Is it even working on you?"

"I'd say it's debatable," James said.

"What is that supposed to mean? It's a yes or no question."

"It helps me fall asleep but it doesn't help me stay asleep," James clarified.

Malkiel clicked his tongue. "And you have the strong ones, too. You must've seen some shit to not be able to sleep through that."

James only stared at him, blinking slowly.

"Yeah," he said blankly.

"Yeah," Malkiel repeated back. "We've all seen some shit. You good here?"

"I'm good," James said.

Malkiel shot him another glare. "It seems the others are warming up to you, but I don't trust you for one second," he said.

"I appreciate it," James said with a forced, tired smile.

"You're a fraud, and I'm going to find out what you're really here for."

"To farm?" James asked.

Malkiel started up the engine of his bike again. "No," he said. "Drop your act. I'm onto you."

"Let me know how that goes," James said as his fake smile faded.

"Keep it up, and soon you're going to wish you can wake up from your sleep," he said as he picked up his helmet again.

James took a small step back, since it looked like Malkiel was getting ready to ride off.

"Death threats," he said plainly. "Nice."

Malkiel scoffed before slipping the helmet on. "You should be familiar with that, since you're always with her."

He didn't even say goodbye as he revved the engine and turned the bike around, leaving Terra.

James watched as the plume of dust settled where Malkiel's bike once was.

Malkiel didn't see the full picture, but he was right about one thing. James was very used to death threats.

James was glad for Malkiel's short visit. After all of the other interactions he'd had, he was glad that he didn't have to play anything up or put on a show. Malkiel was just there to make sure he took the pill, antagonize him a little, and then he was off.

That was the kind of interaction he prefferred. Passively hostile. It felt comfortable, in an odd sort of way.

Later that day James went to see Isabel, and then before bed, he radioed Mel again. Just talking about little things. He mentioned that Malkiel came by, and that it was a brief interaction. Mel seemed to understand what he meant by that and tried to assure him that Malkiel was like that to a lot of people. He didn't trust strangers and filled the role of being suspicious and wary of them, even though he always came around to warming up to them in the end. She was sure he would warm up to James eventually, too.

But he didn't really care. Things didn't feel right if everybody liked him. It was better to be hated and disliked. Then, people didn't miss you as much if you disappeared one day or ended up dead in a ditch.

The next two days passed like a blur.

Isabel came by to his place, and they checked his plants. They even rode Elliot outside of Terra for some time. It was a longer ride, but James was getting more familiar with the area around Terra from frequent rides outside its borders.

Isabel seemed giddy to get out, but also nervous for some reason. But they were fine. They made it back fine.

James continued to talk to Mel a little bit here and there too. Just to keep her worries at bay. He found it easier and easier to convince her he was doing okay. Maybe it helped that he didn't have to see her face to face.

Yeah. That helped.

His dreams over Monday and Tuesday blurred together. He felt like he wasn't even dreaming things undone anymore. How could he? Sometimes Isabel was involved. Sometimes Josiah. Sometimes there would be a blip of some minor inconvenience to Evaline and then it would just keep going, and going... and how far back could Evaline undo things again?

Maybe it didn't matter. None of it was real. None of it really happened. He was going to forget all of it. All of it. He didn't need it.

What he needed was some godsdamned sleep. Even with the dreams that felt more tame, he kept waking up from them feeling like his eyes were sinking into his skull. Burning.

At least Elliot was doing well. Sleepy was growing up healthy. His plants were still growing.

As he laid down to sleep again, he decided it didn't matter that he started to wither away.

It was inevitable anyway.

This was an entirely new dream, but it felt familiar. Like he had seen this before.

Evaline was crying in his arms, and he was hugging her tightly.

"I'm here, now," he whispered as he hugged her a little tighter. "I'm sorry. That you had to carry that burden alone."

This... this was in Nye. This was an undone memory in Nye that he was seeing again after five years. How was this possible?

"I will do everything in my power to make sure you stay safe," he said. "That we stay safe. I promise."

James couldn't help but feel his heart sink, and his gut pooled with vicious, bubbling dread. Shame wrapped around him like a wet blanket. Guilt was filling his lungs like he was drowning. How was he not dying? He couldn't breathe.

He could remember clear as day the thoughts that had gone through his mind in that moment.


He hadn't knowingly been lying. There was so much he didn't understand about her or about himself, but he remembered telling himself that she would always come first, whether she liked it or not.

The memory should have stopped here. This was all he could remember seeing when he dreamed of this for the first time years ago.

But it kept going.

"Why...?" Evaline said through a sob, her voice muffled and getting caught at the back of her throat as the tears continued to run down her face and into his shirt. She hugged him tighter, her nails slightly digging into his back for extra grip as she buried her head deeper into his chest.

"Because you deserve it, Evaline," James said like he meant it.

Evaline kept her arms around him as she continued to loudly cry, and James rubbed his thumb on her back as he let her cry in his chest. This went on for some time, but he was patient. He didn't mind waiting.

Eventually her sobs subsided, and she loosened her grip around him to pull her fingers up to her face, trying to sniff away the build-up of snot as she wiped her eyes.

"I don't deserve you," she whispered with a shaky voice, still keeping her head hidden in the safety of his chest.

James could feel his insides writhe at that. No. He didn't deserve her. But it seemed like his past self didn't know how to respond to that, because he was quiet for a moment before speaking.

"I don't think it's fair to yourself to determine what you deserve. We're not very good judges of ourselves, you know. I think you deserve to be safe. And cared for. It's as simple as that," he said softly as he patted her back, waiting for her to pull away.

If he had any control over what he was doing in the dream, James would've laughed bitterly. But it just kept playing on.

Evaline didn't answer right away, still keeping her head down, still sniffing. Enough time had passed that her tears seemed to be drained, but she didn't make any movement to indicate that she wanted out of the embrace.

"I just don't understand," she said softly. "Why do you bring so much pain?"

James hesitated.

"I'm not sure what you mean..." he said softly.

There was a long pause before she spoke again, and she sat still, no longer sniffing or making any noises.

And then she finally looked up at him to meet his eyes, but there was no indication of tears. Her eyes were empty, but behind them, was a look of bitterness, like they were incapable of forgiveness. Of forgiving him.

"With you, you'll always bring pain," she said in a low voice, keeping her icy stare on him like she wanted him to hear every word and know that she meant it.

James couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from hers as she spoke. It felt like she was looking right through him. Compulsively, he opened his mouth to apologize, as if he didn't know what for, but he didn't get a chance to.

He felt a piercing, where her hands laid on his chest. Her fingers were digging through his clothes, through his skin. Her hands looked like they'd turned black, and a darkness started oozing out from where her fingers dug in.

"You took my heart and broke it," she said with an empty voice, her eyes still on his. "Let me do the same to you."

James let go of her, and he tried to pull away, but then he felt her fingers pierce through him like hooked daggers, digging deep, around his heart, like vines full of thorns twisting inside of his chest. He couldn't form words. All that escaped him was a scream as the vines burst out his back and wrapped around him, consuming him.

He could feel the moment when his heart stopped.

He should've been dead, and yet, he looked on consciously into Evaline's empty, piercing eyes.

And in that moment he felt that he agreed.

Yes.

He deserved this.

James woke up with bile burning his throat. His body was screaming at him to get up and spit it out, but he could still feel it. The millions of little daggers cutting through him, and wrapping around his body. Was it a phantom pain? Or was it real?

His nerves were fried beyond reason. He could not convince himself that the pain was only a dream, or that his heart was still beating, or that his back wasn't an open, gaping wound. Even as he shakily pat himself down, it felt wrong. It was like he was in someone else's body. He'd woken up as someone else.

It wasn't until he was almost choking that he rolled on his side and spit up on himself, in the least dignified manner possible. His throat felt like it was raw, and on fire, and he couldn't get the picture of Evaline out of his head.

Ripping through his heart... with her hands.

He got to his feet and got a glass of water. He could've sworn he felt feverish, but he didn't have a fever. This was just stress. And he couldn't be stressed, because then people would notice, and they would worry, and they would pry, and they would find out.

He downed a full glass in one gulp and then coughed. Sleepy started chirping.

He'd woken her up.

"I'm sorry," he rasped, his voice thin and weak. But Sleepy only chirped louder. He was awake. That meant feeding time to her. He couldn't argue logic with a chicken, but he couldn't just feed her at any hour. She needed to keep a schedule.

He let Sleepy chirp as James took off his shirt and put on a new one. He'd clean it later. It was still the dead of night, and James didn't think he'd slept more than three hours, and he knew he wasn't going to get any more. He took Sleepy out of her cage and took her to his bed, where he laid back down and let her sit on his chest.

Though he couldn't stop seeing Evaline's hands there.

When sunrise came, James did the things he had to do. He took care of Sleepy and Elliot, he worked the fields, watered the garden, cleaned himself up again. He took Elliot on another ride outside Terra's gates and came back, and no one ever seemed to care.

For a moment in his ride he considered just staying out there. Going and never returning.

But... he had to plan for that. He knew with certainty that Alistair would stop by in a few days and report back to Oliver, or Evaline, or whomever was keeping track of his stupid sleeping pills.

So he rode back.

In some ways, he was trapped in Terra. Not as a formal prisoner... but if he left, he didn't think they'd just let him leave.

Someone would come to find him. Right?

James wished he knew the answer.

The day went on as usual. Isabel came by briefly in the evening with a sugar cube for Elliot, and James called Mel again. Not because he wanted to, though.

He kept it brief. He used the medicine as an excuse and told her he was getting sleepy, but that was far from the truth.

When he lied down, he couldn't sleep at all.

Hours passed by, and even though exhaustion passed over him in waves, his body kept jolting awake. Forcing alertness upon him. Danger was coming. Someone was watching. It didn't want to dream again.

"Mel," Evaline's voice suddenly said through the radio. "Are you awake?"

James stared up at his ceiling in the darkness. It sounded like the radio. He knew he'd left it on, but for just a moment, he thought she was there, and terror shot through him.

"Yeah," Mel's sleepy voice said after a long pause. "What's up? Everything okay?"

"Did you also get the letter?" Evaline asked, glossing over her question.

Mel didn't answer right away. "I did," she said. "You too?"

"...Yeah," Evaline said. "Can I meet you tomorrow?"

"Of course. Stop by and I'll be here."

"Thanks," Evaline said, then paused again. "I'll see you then."

There was a brief static to indicate that she closed the channel, and then it faded. That was the end of the conversation.

In the silence that followed, James's mind idly considered 'the letter.' A message. Something secret, or private, or too complicated to discuss over the radio. Something she wanted to talk about in person.

It could've been anything. It probably had nothing to do with him, and it shouldn't have. The world didn't revolve around his existence.

But still, it was the first time he'd heard Evaline's voice in almost a month now.

Right? A month? It had been that long?

He wondered if she was doing better, being away, like she said.

He held his hands together over his stomach, feeling the pit form.

He hoped she was okay.



The day passed by like a blur. He went out, he worked, the animals were okay, things were fine. Things were fine. Isabel didn't stop by. Josiah passed by in the morning and they only exchanged a quiet wave. James didn't speak to anyone. By late afternoon, he'd done all he could think to do and all he had energy to do, and it was then that he realized he hadn't eaten.

In three days.

James stood in his cottage, staring down at the food sitting on his table that Josiah had dropped off. He'd almost forgotten it was there - and he wasn't even hungry. What tipped him off was that his hands had started shaking with tremors he couldn't quite control, and he knew it wasn't because he was nervous.

James let out a short, manic laugh as he started taking out vegetables, preparing to cook. He took his sweet time, and part of it was because he couldn't seem to move fast. Everything ached, and even as he chopped vegetables, he had to push through every joint protesting every movement.

But he'd done that all day. This wasn't any different.

James ended up accidentally slicing his finger, but it wasn't too deep. It was just the side of his finger, and it didn't cut quite to the bone. For a moment, as his finger started bleeding, he stared at the cut, and the knife. Back and forth.

He imagined chopping it off, over and over, but eventually shook his head and went to bandage it up.

He returned to his meal. Cooked the food. Ate. Instead of feeling a burst of energy or relief, he felt nauseas, and another wave of exhaustion passed over him. Tired, his mind wandered in search of something - anything - at all that could help him sleep. Maybe the dreams wouldn't be so bad if he could just stay asleep.

Or what if he could just stay asleep forever?

He walked over to where he kept the sleeping medicine. There was only one pill left, and he found himself angry. Angry that he hadn't thought of this sooner. Angry that they felt they had to limit him because he couldn't be trusted with a damned pill.

He tossed the last pill into his mouth, swallowed hard, and cursed at no one, because no one was there.

With no desire to read, or write, or do anything creative to kill time, James stepped out onto his porch and simply sat in his rocking chair, watching as the sun just started inching towards the horizon.

And then he saw someone approaching his farm. They were riding on a loud bike, the dirt on the road going up into the air when they zipped past it. The person slowed to a stop in front of his cottage, the engine rumbling until they turned it off. It wasn't until the person took off their helmet that James was able to recognize who it was.

"Hey, romance boy," Tula said as she shook her curly hair around her shoulders, setting the helmet down. "Miss me?"

If James were to permit himself to lack any sort of filter, he would've cursed again. But instead, he sat up straight, and an instinctual persona took over. The switch flipped again, and James leaned back into his chair for a moment with a relaxed posture, smiling slightly as Tula made eye contact with him. He got to his feet with more energy than he had, and walked down the steps of the porch.

"That nickname's going to stick, now, isn't it?" he asked.

Tula smirked, hopping off the bike and setting up the kickstands. "Would you like me to call you baby man instead?"

"That would be the actual worst," he said with an amused huff through his nose. "I'll take 'romance boy' over 'baby man.'"

She laughed through her nose, shaking her head as she turned towards him, still leaning against her bike.

"I only call you romance boy because you're a romantic, romance boy," she said. "One of these days, I'll change your mind."

James raised an eyebrow and put his hands on his pockets as he leaned back on his heels.

"We'll see," he hummed, before changing the subject. "So, are you here for the view?" he asked, gesturing to the beginnings of the sunset behind her.

Tula didn't even look behind her, keeping her eyes on him as she let out a small smile.

"Zameer asked me to pick up an extra package of food for the factory," she said as she gestured towards a box strapped on the back of the bike. "But now I'm here for the view plus more."

"Ah," James said with a nod. "Well... since this is your first time here, do you want a look around?"

"Sure," she said with a smile as she started to walk towards him. "Why not give me a tour first."

"Naturally," James said, reciprocating the smile as he gestured for her to follow him. He headed over to the cottage first, since they were already there. He'd kept things tidy despite the sleeplessness (or perhaps because of the sleeplessness) so he wasn't worried about showing her the inside.

"You paint that?" Tula asked, gesturing towards the flowers painted on the outer wall of the cottage.

"Half of them," he answered.

Tula hummed. "Who painted the other half?"

"Isabel," he lied. He didn't need more people asking about how he knew Evaline.

"Right," Tula said with a nod. "Your neighbor, right?" She pointed across the field. "That one?"

"Yeah, she's over there," James said, pointing as well. "She's a bean farmer. Most of the beans you've eaten are probably from her."

"Well then, she's a gifted bean farmer and an artist," she said. "Maybe she could paint your shed, too."

James hummed as he stepped up onto the porch and pulled open his front door for Tula.

"I'll have to ask," he mused.

Tula shot him an appreciative smile and walked through the door, stepping into the middle of the cottage as she looked around.

"Nice place," she said. "Homey and comfortable. Did Isabel also help you decorate?"

"That was Mel, actually," James said. "Though I was the one who put it all together."

"I see," she murmured, and then looked back at him with the beginnings of a smirk. "You have quite a few lady friends who come by to visit."

"I'm just happy to have friends at all," James said with an innocent smile.

"What, you didn't have a lot of friends in your old life?" Tula teased.

"I've never been a very popular person," James said with a small shrug.

"Hard to believe," she mused as she eyed his bookshelf. "Romance boy like you seems like a people person."

"I have my moments," James said casually. "But I tend to fade into the background."

Tula nodded, letting a small pause pass. "What was your old life like?" she asked. "People who fade into the background tend to have the most interesting stories about themselves."

"Well... I've been a traveler most of my life," James said. "It probably wouldn't surprise you to hear that I actually grew up on a farm. But I didn't take up the family trade. I wanted to live a simple life, living off the land, out in the wilderness. I could probably tell you survival stories, but I don't know if that would pique your interest."

Tula kept her eyes on him, not quite studying him, but just watching, like she usually did.

"A simple life, hm?" she said with a small smile. "Are you living a simple life now?"

"By some definitions of the word," he said. "Yes. But I think the moment I traveled to the future, my life became much less simple."

"If you could do it right now, would you go back?" she asked.

James looked around the cottage with a thoughtful expression.

"I think I would," he said. "If I had any idea how to do it, or had any control over it. But I would tell you all first."

He paused, glancing out the window at the fields.

"You know," he said. "So you could tie up loose ends. Say goodbye."

"Of course," Tula said. "Did you have time to tie up your loose ends in the past, before you came here?"

James let his gaze linger on the window for a moment before he looked back in Tula's direction, but not quite looking into her face.

"Considering that I didn't really think any sort of time jump would work..." he mused. "No. Not really."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Tula said gently. "You say you're not popular, but I'm sure you left behind many people who miss you."

James smiled softly, even though it was quite the opposite of what he was feeling at that sentiment.

"Thanks," he said quietly.

Tula nodded. "What was your family like?" she asked. "I assume you left them behind."

"I did," he said. "They were good people, though. Both of my parents were very kind and attentive. I had an older brother who took up the farm, which gave me the freedom to choose my own path. His name is -- or was... Luke."

"Luke sounds like a great brother," she said. "Did your folks know you wanted to live off the grid in the wilderness?"

"It had always been something that interested me as a kid, so I don't think it was a surprise to anyone," James answered.

"I see," Tula said with a nod. "It sounds rather lonely."

James tilted his head to the side in thought.

"Sometimes it is," he admitted softly. "But I didn't mind it."

"No time for romance, then," she said with a sly smile. "How unfortunate."

James laughed lightly and looked up at her with a small smirk.

"A real downer," he said.

He turned for the door, putting his hand on the handle and glancing back at Tula.

"Would you like to meet Elliot? Before the sun goes down?" he asked.

"Actually, I should be heading back since Zameer and Katya are expecting me," Tula said, stepping close to James so that she could draw little cirlces on his chest. "But I can make an exception if you want to make time for romance," she said in a sultry voice as she tilted her head, looking into his eyes.

James looked down at her hand over his chest, and for a moment, the feeling of fingers piercing through like daggers returned to him, and his heart started to race.

"Getting nervous, are we?" Tula teased. She must have felt his heart begining to pound loudly against his chest.

He decided it was better to play it off as what she already assumed it to be. He looked up at her and met her eyes, but briefly flicked his eyes down to her lips before returning eye contact.

"I wouldn't want to make you late," he said, slowly pushing the door open.

Tula smirked, and with her head still tilted, suddenly leaned in and kissed him on the lips for about two seconds.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" she said after pulling away, lingering her gaze on him for a little while longer before she pulled the door open herself.

"Bye, romance boy," Tula said with the low, flirty voice as she waved behind her and headed for the bike.

James turned and watched her leave, but he felt absent, even as he lifted up his hand to wave goodbye as she drove off. He turned back into the cottage and closed the door behind him.

He was starting to feel drowsy, but the pull of sleep felt stronger. It probably didn't help that he was already exhausted, but his body started to feel heavy, and his mind was quickly getting swallowed by a cloud. He couldn't think straight. All he could think of was sleep, and it drew him to his bed, where he laid down and fell asleep the moment his head touched the pillow.

Just as the sun dipped below the horizon.

"Goodnight, Evaline," he said softly, hearing his own voice talk.

James remembered this. This occured over a month ago when Evaline stayed the night, and they both slept outside under the willow tree. He was looking through his own eyes.

Evaline must have undone a moment in this conversation. That was the only explanation to why he was seeing this now.

"I'm glad you're here," Evaline said after a pause, barely audible, almost slurring her words from drowsiness.

"I'm glad I got to see you again," James said, just as quiet with a frown, knowing he was holding back words.

And he remembered what happened after this. She fell asleep, and he rolled over to his side, trying to sleep, but failing.

But that wasn't what happened. Not in this dream.

"Tu m'as tellement manqué, James," she said, again barely loud enough for him to hear.

He wouldn't have understood it then. But now he did.

Translated, she said: "I have missed you so much, James."

But he couldn't believe it. How could she miss him? He wasn't even the same person anymore. She'd never get that back. He'd never get his old self back. That James was gone. She missed the James that didn't exist anymore.

So did he.

No, he didn't.

The dream kept playing out as if James had responded.

"I don't know what that means," he whispered. "But the words sound nice."

There was a long pause before Evaline answered again.

"It means good night," she said quietly.

James could feel himself smile, just a little. It was a sad smile.

"Good night to you too."

And then the dream was over.

But it wasn't the end of the dreams he had that night. More people from his past and the present started making appearances. He saw his mother, and they had an entire conversation about the present, as if she'd already been caught up to speed. She kept saying things like "I'm sorry" and "I wish you were here," which would overlap with "I wish you were never born" at the same time.

He dreamed that he saw Leo again, on a deserted island. Miraculously, he'd survived too. He tried to convince James to go back in time so they could succeed. So they could kill the Laokin and be names of legend. He was talking in circles again, and for once, James almost understood his maddened logic.

He dreamed that Tula was on Nye. She knew Rita somehow, and they were all part of the same gang. At one point it seemed they were both conspiring against him, but he didn't know what for. He just had a constant sense of unease whenever they'd look at him. Like they knew something, and weren't telling him.

He dreamed of a life without Elliot. Not entirely absent - it seemed that it was just a possible future - and maybe he was seeing into it. It was a future where Elliot died when he fell into the river. One where Evaline hadn't missed the shot, and Elliot was beyond saving. Broken legs, bleeding out, and James was alone.

He didn't make it very far after that. Pitch almost caught up to him, but he ended himself first.

When he woke up, it was morning, and it scared him to see the sun up. He looked out the window, almost in disbelief that the sun was already up before him. Panic coursed through him as he quickly tried to do the math and figure out what time it was - but it looked like the sun had only just risen.

He hadn't slept all day. Just all night.

Then it hit him. The pills had actually worked. He'd slept all night. He didn't feel as much like death as he did before. But things were different. His head was cloudy, and he felt sluggish, like he was constantly dragging behind him weights that were chained to his his wrists and ankles.

As a result, the day sped by like even more of a blur than usual. He knew he did things. Important things. The animals were okay.

But he hardly remembered any of it, and before the sun even went down, he collapsed back into bed, instantly falling back asleep.

"Goodnight, Evaline," he said softly, hearing his own voice.

It was this dream again. The same one from yesterday.

"I'm glad you're here," Evaline said, barely audible and sounding drowsy.

"I'm glad I got to see you again," James said, just as quiet with a frown, knowing he was holding back words.

He knew what was coming. She was going to speak in French.

"Je ne pense pas que vous réaliserez jamais la quantité de douleur et de blessure que vous m'avez causée," she said, again barely loud enough for him to hear.

Again, James knew his past self didn't understand what she said. But now he knew enough to translate her words to: "I don't think you will ever realize the amount of pain and hurt you have caused me."

It sounded familiar. He couldn't remember why it was familiar at first, but then it came back to him.

She'd said that to him before. When he'd asked her what French sounded like.

So she'd been hiding her bitterness even then. Even then, she hated him for the decision he already hated himself for making. Sending her back. Breaking his promise.

In that moment, James seemed to actually have some semblance of agency. Maybe it wasn't a memory anymore, or maybe it was. The line had long since blurred, and he didn't care if this was real or not.

"Alors laissez-le vous donner la paix de savoir que je ne serai plus là pour vous faire du mal plus longtemps," was his response.

Translated, it meant: Then let it give you peace to know that I won't be around to hurt you much longer.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Evaline's voice said behind him, even though he was lying down.

Suddenly it was like his surroundings all melted away into a puddle, and James fell down into a deep abyss, falling, falling, falling, until it dropped down to where his mind and soul should have been in this scene.

"Are you even listening to me?" Evaline said again, still sounding hurt and offended. "You've pretended to be so patient, but I knew you were faking that too. It was all an act. You're a liar."

They were in the cave with the sandstorm raging outside. This was in Nye. This happened. He couldn't remember if she said those words before to him or not, but this was the night before they got rescued by the oasis people. They argued here.

Evaline was sitting across from him, staring daggers at him as she leaned against the cave wall, looking thin and frail. That didn't stop her anger from seeping out, though.

James could feel the wound in his side like it was actually there, but he had pushed through worse. He was convinced there wasn't a single physical pain that could stop him if he was determined to fight back.

And in this moment, he was.

He sat up and met Evaline's eyes.

"That's because I am," he said cooly. "I'm a liar. Everything I do is an act. There's no real me anymore. It's just an amalgamation of personalities I put together to appeal to different types of people. I'm a collection of false identities trapped in a bottle, and the day I break, no one will remember who I really was. If I was ever even a person in the first place."

The scene shifted again. James felt himself falling into the dark abyss until he opened his eyes to see that they were sitting on a plateau, watching the sunset, holding hands.

Evaline immediately retracted her hand from his, turning to glare at him again.

"Were you faking it with me?" she asked cooly. "After everything we've been through, did you fake it all with me? Was any of it real? Did you even stop to think about the consequences of your actions? Of what your words could mean to me?"

James could feel tears pressing at the back of his eyes.

"I think about it every day," he said. "And I hate myself for it."

The scene change happened faster this time. James opened his eyes to see that they were sitting across from each other from a campfire in the woods. This must have been before they reached the Outlands. Evaline was wearing his baggy red shirt and was still glaring at him.

"You're a liar," she said. "I don't believe you. How can I trust that you're not lying right now? That you're not faking it?"

"Then don't believe me," James said sharply, and his voice began to raise. "Don't believe any word I say. Don't trust me. I don't want you to give me a second chance anymore. I just want you to forget me! Hate me forever if you want, but stop giving me hope where there isn't any!"

In one quick blur, it was now daylight, and they were standing in front of Elliot and other horses. They were at mage camp, back when they were trying to converse without anyone hearing. But that didn't stop them now.

"You're an idiot!" Evaline screamed at him. "Don't you think I would have already left you if I don't want you around? Why do you think I'm still here? I'm not giving you hope. I don't have any hope left to give you. I just can't let go of you, even if I hate you!"

"Then maybe you should wish me away already!" James shouted. "Because I want to go home!"

And that was the end of it. James felt his voice fade as he returned to wakefullness. Drowsily stirring and cracking his eyes open to peer at the morning light peeking through the windows.

"Do you really want that?" Evaline's voice said across the room.

James's eyes opened wide, and he turned over, half-sitting up.

She was laying on the couch with linen overalls and his blanket draped over her as she slowly sat up, her hair a mess.

She looked hurt. Betrayed. Sad.

"Do you really want me to wish you away?" she repeated softly.

James stared at her, and his heart hurt. Desperately, he wanted this to be real, and yet, he didn't want it to be.

Why did it feel like he was awake? Why did it feel so real?

James looked past Evaline as his gaze turned vacant, and his eyes glazed over, unfocused.

"I'm tired of living, Evaline," he said quietly. It would be the first time he voiced the confession, and he wasn't even sure if it was real. "If you could wish me away forever, I would be happy for this all to be over. I'm tired. So... so tired."

Evaline was still watching him with the same hurt expression, and she laid perfectly still as a short silence passed.

"I don't want you to go," she said softly. "I don't want to wish you away."

James slowly got to his feet.

"Well... maybe you don't have to," he said as he walked over to the kitchen table. If this was a dream, he could prove it.

"No," Evaline said quickly as she got up off the couch and followed him, grabbing his arm to stop him. "Don't leave me."

James stiffened at her touch, and he turned to look back at her. Her eyes were wide in fear as she pulled him back.

Not fear of what he may do. Fear of abandonment.

"That's the thing I learned about myself over the last five years," James said. "I always leave."

"No," Evaline said again, shaking her head. "You can't leave. Not this time. You won't leave me again."

James met her eyes, but there was nothing behind them.

"Give me a reason to stay," he said.

"I love you," Evaline said with a shaky voice. "Don't leave me."

That stung.

James ripped his arm away from her and grabbed one of the kitchen knives off of the table. He laid his hand flat on the table and brought the knife straight through the center as hard as he could.

Blood gushed everywhere. Evaline screamed behind him, trying to stop him by pulling at his arms. James stared at his hand. Blood pooled out underneath and sputtered around the knife, but he couldn't feel anything. For once, he couldn't feel a damned thing. Tears came to his eyes and streamed down his face, and he smiled.

"It's not real," he whimpered. "It's not real."

He repeated it over and over and over again, even as Evaline kept hovering over him. She was saying things, but he wasn't listening anymore.

James woke up with tears in his eyes, and he couldn't help but cry and laugh. He'd found out a way to make sure things were real, but he didn't know if it would work every time. Normally he did feel pain in dreams, but that was the first time he couldn't. Maybe it was a sign. A sign of something changing.

Maybe it was the medicine. It could be working in more ways than one.

He just didn't know if he'd be getting any more.



James checked the calendar again. Reality was blurring with his dreams, but the calendar at least allowed him to keep track of the passage of time with some sense of dependability. He checked once, and twice, and he lost count because his head was still a cloud of mush.

Sluggishly, he went about his day, and when he went into the fields, he saw that the crops were finally ready for harvest. Josiah seemed to have noticed as well, because he dropped off crates for storage, so James would have a place to pack them in.

It became a busy day. He spent the majority of the day digging up carrots and potatoes and stacking them away in crates. Crate after crate after crate... and he was too tired to make himself any food by the end of it. He mustered up the energy to feed Sleepy one last time before bed, and he didn't care that he was still in his work clothes and covered in a layer of dirt and sweat.

He fell asleep on top of his bed, and he dreamed again.

James was drawn towards the same loud signal. But this time, it didn't feel like there was as much noise. He was able to select a small segment and focus without a problem.

He was seeing the same classroom, but the desks were not thrown about, and the students in the classroom seemed to still be sitting down, lightly chatting among themselves. Suddenly the person he was seeing through stood up, and a few people in the class looked his way as the chair scraped the floor.

The person he was seeing through wasted no time to walk over to a boy a few desks over and pinch the sleeve of his uniform's sleeve, dragging him out of the room. He protested, but that didn't stop the action.

"Eve, stop," he said after too many seconds of protesting and quickly being dragged out of the room. He pulled his sleeve away, looking disgruntled.

So he was looking through the eyes of Evaline.

The boy called her Eve. This must have been Alan. Evaline had told him once that he called her this nickname.

James finally could get a good look at him. His dark hair was neatly combed back, and his eyes were hidden behind wooden-framed glasses that matched the color of his eyes. His school uniform was fitted and wrinkle-free, and he looked at her with a wariness and disbelief.

"Is this about our breakup?" he asked.

"No!" Evaline said quickly. "No. No, this has -- you have to listen to me. This isn't about... I'm trying to save you. You don't understand. I'm trying to save you! Time's down. You have to listen to me."

Alan sighed while she was talking, still looking at her wearily. "You can't just undo whatever you don't like," he said quietly. "This isn't how life works. Sometimes, you have to accept that things happen."

"Listen to me," Evaline said with desperation in her voice as she grabbed Alan's shoulders and looked him in the eye. "We have to get you far from here. You can't stay in the classroom. He's going to get to you. He's --"

"So the sketch artist is the outlaw's bitch now, isn't she?" Reed taunted down the hall, staring daggers at Evaline. "Hmph. I should've known."

James could feel Evaline's body freezing up as she eyed Reed coming closer. She couldn't move, she couldn't think.

Suddenly an axe was thrown towards Alan's back, and his eyes widened before he fell down with a pained whimper, blood immediately pooling on the floor. Evaline wasn't able to do anything but watch him fall to the ground.

"I'm sorry," James heard her say with a shaky voice. "I've failed. I wish I could do better. I wish we could have that future together. The one I really wanted with you, that we want."

This...

No.

He had heard this before. This was her last words to him before she left Nye.

"We can do this the easy way, or we could do this the hard way," Butch hissed behind her shoulder, and then offered her a gun, which Evaline took before she buckled down on her knees in front of the bleeding body.

Alan's body morphed. Morphed into James's body, still bleeding. Dead.

And Evaline kept talking, her voice sounding older, more mature. Into the same voice he knew today.

"I don't know how to be myself because this has happened before, and now I'm not just going to undo time," she continued, biting back tears. "I'm going to undo me. And I'm sorry. I really did love you. I do love you. But I think it's because of that, that you're in this mess. And I'm sorry for the pain."

James had replayed these words over and over in his head before. He didn't need to hear the next part to know what she was going to say next.

But still, she continued, and she lifted the gun not towards her stomach for a non-fatal shot, but instead over her heart.

"Thank you for not leaving me," she continued softly through a repressed sob, her eyes still on his bleeding, limp body. "Now it's my turn to be there for you."

She then pulled the trigger, and the dream went black.

James woke up as the sun rose, and he couldn't even name the emotion that hung over him like a dark shadow, tempting him to go back to sleep again, and again, and again. He could still hear Evaline's haunting last words as he robotically started going about his morning tasks. At this point, he was doing everything out of habit. His body knew to go to Sleepy first, then he changed, then he washed his face, then he went out and rode Elliot. He left Elliot in the paddock with food and water as he went out into the fields, back to the harvest.

His head was filled with a wall of noise, and he was in the far edge of the field when he saw a distant shadow coming down the road. In the time it took him to walk across the field to the road, the biker was slowing to a stop.

He assumed it was Alistair under the helmet, riding what looked like an older, weathered bike.

Alistair slowed the bike to a stop in front of James, turning it off and then taking off his helmet.

"Hey," he said. "I'm here for your... check-in."

It almost sounded like he wasn't even sure what the check-in entailed. That was good. James could work with that.

James looked back at the field, and then looked back at Alistair.

"Well," he said. "I've just been harvesting crops. That's pretty much all that's happened today."

Alistair looked past him and towards the partly-harvested fields. "Exciting," he said, although he didn't sound particularly excited. "That means you've been here for a few months now, right?"

"Two and a half," James said.

"Hopefully it hasn't been too bad," Alistair continued.

"Nah," James said, glancing back at the fields for a moment at the crate he'd left half-full. "It's been alright."

Alistair nodded, letting a longer silence pass before he spoke again.

"I'm not really sure why I got asked to be here, actually," he admitted. "Do you usually get check-ins?"

"Once a week," James said. "To make sure I'm... adjusting. To life here, I guess."

Alistair still stared out into the fields. "And how do they usually go?"

"Fine?" James said. "I guess? I don't know, it depends who's visiting."

He scratched the back of his head, looking back at him. "Well, okay. Are you... adjusting okay, then?"

"I'd say so," James said with a small nod.

Alistair returned the nod. "Alright. Then I guess I'm done here? Unless I'm missing something?"

It occured to James that Alistair could be testing him, but that seemed stupid for something as small as a sleeping pill. James was still alive, after all, and it seemed like Alistair was genuinely clueless.

"You're good," James said with a shrug. "I don't want to keep you here. I'm sure you have your own things to get back to."

Alistair picked up the helmet again, glancing back at the road he came from. "I'm sure you do as well," he said. "I'll be back in five days to pick you up, though."

James tilted his head to the side.

"Pick me up for... what, exactly?" he asked.

Alistair turned to look at him, and he looked unamused. Not unamused over his question, but possibly because he had to be the one to give the explanation to him. Perhaps someone else was supposed to tell him about this before he was, or perhaps Alistair accidentally said something he shouldn't have said.

He sighed. "All I'm told is that I'm picking you up for a last-minute small meeting," he said. "Only a few of us will be there."

Alistair looked like he wanted to say more, but then thought better against it. James decided not to press it.

He hummed, feigning mild interest, but then shrugged it off casually.

"Alright. I'll see you then, I guess," he said.

Alistair nodded. "See you then," he said as he turned on the bike. He paused before putting on his helmet. "I hope your harvest is good," he said.

"Thanks," James said. "It looks like it is, so far."

Alistair nodded. "Yeah. Okay. I'll be back on Friday afternoon."

He then put on his helmet, lifted his hand for a quick wave, and then drove off.

James returned to harvesting with two things on his mind.

One, he wouldn't get a refill of the sleep medication for another week.

Two, he needed to figure out a plan of escape soon. He didn't want to leave the fields half-harvested, and he couldn't leave Sleepy...

He would figure out the details. Soon.

The dreams began to dwindle.

The dreams that did occur had him seriously beginning to question his memories of what happened not just between him and Evaline in Nye, but the entirety of his life before Earth. He found himself turning back to his journal, flipping through the pages and leaning on his notes from two - maybe three weeks ago now. He'd written about his family. About old friends. Old enemies. Old traumas. There were pictures, cryptic notes, and secret codes. He thought back then that it would be helpful, but suddenly he found himself doubting even his own written words.

What if he was interpreting himself wrong? There was no way to be sure. No one knew his story, and he'd lost his journal recording his past encounters long ago.

But after only two days, the effects of the sleeping pill seemed to wear off entirely. He'd forgotten what it felt like to have a head that was clear, but the clarity only lasted for a moment, because he was back to sleeping two hours a night. If that.

The only thing James had to show for himself was progress on his harvest. With Friday two days away, James was picking up his pace as much as possible. He spent every spare moment - even those in the night, when he couldn't sleep - digging out carrots and potatoes.

It was on a Wednesday that Isabel stopped by and saw him harvesting by hand. She shouted out to him and bounded into his field, wanting to see the results of his hard work. She congratulated him on a good yield, but she seemed to pity him for having to harvest it all himself.

She spent the rest of the afternoon helping him, and it sped things up. James was able to keep up his act with her just fine, and she didn't seem to suspect anything was wrong. She just seemed happy to help.

By the end of the day, just before the sunset, they dug up the last potato. The following Thursday, Josiah came by that morning and James and Isabel spent the whole morning packing up Josiah's truck as full as it could get with crates. Josiah came by to make two trips, and by noon, they were done. Josiah congratulated them for a job well done, and James and Isabel celebrated by resting and having lunch together. She left that afternoon, and James was left to himself.

Now that the fields were empty, he didn't know what to do with himself. He knew it was inevitable that he would have to plant another crop, but he couldn't imagine having the energy to do all of that again.

He reserved his energy to make sure Sleepy and Elliot would be set for a day left alone. He didn't know how long the meeting would be, or when he would get home on Friday because nobody told him anything. That seemed to be something he and Alistair had in common, except James knew even less about what was going on.

James stood in the shed with Elliot. The warm orange light of the setting sun shone through the window, and Elliot stood content in his stall. James had just put him inside for the night, but he lingered. He stood by the stall wall, next to Elliot's head, and he started to pet Elliot's mane as he stared out into the shed with a vacant gaze. At some point, James's eyes snapped open as Elliot nudged him gently, and James jumped.

"Sorry, buddy," James said softly, leaning in to hug Elliot around the neck.

At least Elliot understood. He was used to this. He knew James was jumpy, and he didn't need an explanation. Elliot never asked if he was okay. He simply stayed, and patiently let James be however he was that day.

James buried his face into Elliot's mane and tried not to drift again. He pulled himself away before he could, but he gave Elliot a small kiss between his eyes before he went back inside.

Back in the cottage, he prepared a bath. He slowly heated up buckets of water by lighting the fireplace and dumping the water into a small metal trough he'd cleaned out just for this.

He hadn't had a real bath in a long time.

Before getting in, he took out the casette player and set it on the table, playing a song.



He then hopped in the tub and curled up, ducking his head under the water. The music sounded distorted and distant. It was oddly comforting that way.

He tried to hold his breath for as long as he could, and when he couldn't hold it any longer, he tried to stay under. But, predictably, his body disagreed, and he came bobbing back up, gasping for air. He sunk back into the water with disappointment and decided to hurry up before the warm bath grew cold.

When he was done, he gave Mel a quick call before bed. He told her about the harvest, and Isabel's help, and how Josiah seemed impressed. She sounded happy for him.

He wished he could appreciate it.



After James came back from a long morning ride with Elliot he made sure Elliot and Sleepy were comfortable on the farm. He still didn't have an appetite, and he'd only slept maybe an hour, so he stayed inside. Instead of doing anything useful, all he did was lie down.

He found himself somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. His mind was foggy and he seemed to drift in and out, and he decided to let it happen. It wasn't until the sun inched past high noon that he forced himself to get up and clothed in clean clothes. He didn't think anyone really cared how he looked, but he decided to shave again and clean up. He styled his hair. He made every effort to look put together, and then he flopped back onto his bed.

Waiting.

Alistair could knock.

He didn't know how much time passed when he finally heard Alistair's old bike driving down the road and then finally stop in front of his cottage.

James reluctantly rolled out of his bed and walked to the door. In the few remaining seconds he had to himself, he took in a deep breath.

The mask was on.

He stepped out, closed the door behind him, and walked up to Alistair and his bike.

"Hello again," he greeted simply as he stopped in front of him.

"Hey," Alistair said as he extended an extra helmet towards him. "Ready to go?"

James was about to nod, and then he looked at the bike, and thought for a moment.

"How long is the trip?" he asked.

"About a thirty minute bike ride," Alistair answered.

Eh. He could suffer for thirty minutes. James grabbed the helmet and put it on, and hopped on the back of the bike. It looked like he was going to have to hold onto Alistair's waist to stay steady.

"Alright," he said. "Ready."

"Okay," Alistair said as he got the bike ready. "Have you ever ridden on a bike before?"

"Twice," he said.

"Good to go, then? Just hold on to me," Alistair said, then put his own helmet on.

"Will do," James replied. He waited until he heard the engine sputter up before putting his arms around Alistair.

And with that, not another word was exchanged for the remainder of the trip. Alistair drove fairly quickly and took the backroads, and it was a little bumpy, but he didn't seem phased by it. James, however, could feel it. His empty stomach had nothing to offer as nausea and dizziness took residence, but he managed to keep it under control. He wasn't eating, so he wouldn't throw up. It would be fine.

True to his word, they rode for about thirty minutes through the woodsy area, although James noticed that they were heading towards the coast. A view of the ocean was seen in the near distance as Alistair kept driving.

Finally, he came to a slowed stop in front of a cave that seemed to run deeper than it looked, similar to the one he came across his very first day on Earth.

Alistair parked his bike next to another bike. Evaline's. There were no other methods of transportation besides her bike and Alistair's.

Alistair turned off his bike off and then took off his helmet, glancing behind James. "You still awake?" he asked him lightheartedly.

"Seems so," James said as he took off his helmet as well and offered it back to Alistair.

Alistair nodded, setting down both helmets to secure as he hopped off. "We'll be going through there," he said as his nodded towards the mouth of the cave. "I don't think the meeting will take very long."

James didn't think it was a trap, but every paranoid bone in his body cared to differ. He knew Evaline was around, but he couldn't help but think about how easily he could be killed or ambushed in the cave.

He wished that was what was going to happen.

"Okay," he said with a simple nod. He looked to Alistair to lead the way.

Alistair took a minute to secure the bike and the items, and after running his fingers through his hair and giving it a quick lookover, he nodded and started towards the cave.

"Follow me," he said to James.

James followed him down the cave, and they didn't speak for the remainder of the walk. It didn't take that long for the silence to be first be filled with Mel's voice, though. It was faint at first, but the more they walked towards the source, the louder her voice became. She was talking about the journey getting here, walking through the tunnels and the cave. Finally, she came into view under the dim electric lights that lit the path.

As they approached, James could see Mel standing next to Elise, talking and looking like she just noticed their footsteps. On the other side of the tunnel was Evaline, leaning against the wall as she seemed to notice that they were approaching. She met his eyes for a moment before looking away, towards the ground.

"Finally," Mel said, squinting at Alistair as he continued to lead James closer to them. "Took you long enough to get here." She paused for a second. "Uh, why did you bring James?"

"Was I not supposed to?" Alistair said flatly.

"I don't know," Mel said with a shrug, flicking her eyes between him and Alistair. "Let me guess, he's like, Oliver's replacement or something."

"I don't know about replacement," Alistair replied as he stood in front of them. "But he did tell me to get him, yes."

Mel hummed. "Hmm, okay then. Welcome!" she said, and then all eyes were on him.

"Hi again," Elise said to him with a shy smile. "I've heard about the name change. I think it's nice."

James bowed his head briefly towards Elise and offered her a slight smile. "Thanks," he said. "Good to see you again."

"James, can I talk to you for a minute?" Evaline suddenly said as she pointed towards the entrance, already walking.

"Uh, sure," James said quickly with a nod. After a quick glance at the others he hurried to follow her.

Evaline walked briskly ahead, not glancing back as she seemed to be in a rush. She didn't say another word during the rest of the walk out of the tunnel, likely because she wanted privacy. Mel's voice filled the silence again, but then it disappeared when they stepped back outside.

She whirled around with a slight look of discomfort in her expression as she waited for him to step out as well.

"I'm sorry about how I've left things between us," she seemed to blurt out the second he stepped out of the cave.

James had a few different scenarios play out in his head as they walked back out, but he found that he still didn't know how to reply.

He stared at her blankly, still processing.

"I'm not -- you just caught me by surprise," Evaline quickly continued when the short silence felt too long for her. "And I know I haven't seen you again since then, but I have been thinking about what I said, and I didn't mean it. It was callous and brash of me to say all of that. I'm sorry."

Of all things, James hadn't been expecting an apology. He blinked quickly and looked at the ground as he put his hands in his pockets. Just to be sure, he clenched his fists tightly, digging his nails into his skin.

It hurt. That was good. Maybe.

He took in a deep breath and looked up at her.

"I forgive you, Evaline," he said. "I'm sorry for pushing it when you told me you weren't ready."

Evaline held his eyes for a second after, but then looked towards the ground, loosely crossing her arms.

"Can I visit you tomorrow?" she asked in a hushed tone.

James wasn't sure. Dreams and memories started playing at the back of his mind like taunting visions. He didn't know how much more he could take.

And he couldn't help but notice that she avoided addressing his apology at all.

"Sure," James said, matching her volume. "You can come by."

The edge of her lip arched up just slightly, but she didn't smile.

"Thanks," she said softly, then averted her gaze towards the cave, looking to be in thought as she allowed a short silence to sit between them. "I'm not sure why you were invited to this," she said in a normal tone. "But I guess you're here now."

James let his gaze follow into the cave.

"I don't even know what this is," he said. "No one explained it to me."

"I don't really know what this is either," she said. "Elise had a messenger send us three cryptic letters to have this meeting. I don't know why you'd be involved, but I suppose Oliver wanted some other time traveler to be here. I don't know."

"Did Oliver get a letter?" James asked.

"Elise said she only sent three," she said in a low voice, still staring at the cave. "But it's close to impossible for him to not know about any organized meeting, so I'm not surprised."

"So Oliver is the one who asked for me to be here," James stated. It was like Alistair said, then.

"I suppose so," Evaline said, then sighed. "But I have a feeling Elise invited us because of all of our... personal ties growing up, since we all came from Sector 2. I don't know how much of this will make sense to you."

"I guess we won't really know until we find out why she brought you all here," James commented as he looked from Evaline to the cave again.

"I guess so," she breathed out, and the uncrossed her arms as she loosely gestured back towards the cave. "Are you ready to go back in?"

"As I'll ever be," James said with a nod as he started back in.

Evaline watched him head in first, and when he glanced at her, it looked like she wanted to say something else, but held it back. Instead she followed behind him, not saying another word until they got back to the others.

"There they are," Alistair said over Mel's words as they approached. "Should we get started? Elise, why did you ask us to meet you here?"

Mel laughed and smacked her hand on his back, which led to him shooting her a pointed look.

"Polite as usual, I see," she said with a smirk.

Elise let out a small nervous laugh as she watched James and Evaline come to a stop in front of them.

"I didn't want to have a formal meeting," Elise began apologetically. "I didn't think everyone in the council needed to know."

"Need to know what?" Mel asked casually, then glanced around. "Is this about Sector 2?"

"Sort of," Elise answered with a sigh. "I think I trust you three the most with this information." Her gaze lingered on James for a moment.

"It's okay," Evaline said when she noticed Elise's silent wariness. "You can trust him. What do you want to tell us?"

Hearing Evaline advocate for his trustworthiness didn't feel real.

Elise let out another small smile and sighed, and everyone seemed to give her the patience to tell her story.

"Well. Evaline, you probably know best that there's a division of doctors who advocate for peace over violence." She paused. "Because a few came to work with you during the war."

James had a passing thought, wondering if Isabel's parents were part of that group.

Evaline averted her gaze and looked towards the ground, not commenting. Elise went on anyways.

"And as you know, they help out with captured tribalists. Help them live, not get executed. It has been a long-standing project for decades, and there has recently been a breakthrough. Tribalists can be converted to peace when they have limitations on their powers. It's a complicated medical procedure and requires years of counseling, but it's not impossible anymore."

Elise paused and glanced around, waiting to see if anyone had any comments, but it seemed that no one did.

"And..." she began slowly. "Limiting powers doesn't just work with tribalists. It could work with anyone."

She paused again, this time waiting for a reaction.

"I'm not sure I understand what you're implying," Alistair said. "What does this have to do with us?"

Elise offered another small apologetic smile and nodded. "Right. I wanted to let you know because I'm part of an anti-military group. And right now, my team members are in the mountains of the ungoverned lands with a few military personnel who escaped."

She paused again, like she wanted them to connect the dots, but they waited for her to finish. She sighed.

"Elias is part of that group," she finished softly. "And I need your help."

Alistair, Mel, and Evaline seemed to exchange a wordless conversation with their eyes before speaking.

"Elias escaped?" Mel said in disbelief.

"Where is he now?" Alistair said.

"Is he okay?" Mel asked. "What do you need us to do?"

Evaline, however, was silent, as she stared at Elise with widened eyes, her mouth slightly open.

"He's been there for some time, and last I checked, he's doing okay," Elise said calmly. "He needs help with getting to the safe zone. My team and I can help him go through the medical procedure, but even we're not equipped to go there and back by ourselves without any help. This is beyond our capabilities."

"So you want an escort," James concluded.

"Yes," Elise said. "An escort to help us navigate the ungoverned lands. But also, we need resources. The three of you know Elias well - and me, too - and you also have the connections for personnel and resources. So I thought--"

"No," Evaline interrupted. "I'm sorry. We can't help you."

Elise stared at her, dumbfounded. Mel seemed shocked too, but quickly recovered.

"Shouldn't we at least consider it?" Mel asked in a gentle voice.

"We've heard enough," Evaline said, voice steady. "And the answer is no. My decision is final."

"Evaline," Alistair cut in when there was an awkward pause. "It's been ten years. We should at least hear her out."

"No," Evaline said sharply, voice rising. "There's nothing else to hear out. She's said all she needed to say, and my decision is final. No."

Alistair sighed. "Elise, James, can you give us a few minutes?" he asked as he gestured towards the exit. "Evaline, Mel. Let's talk."

James nodded. He knew when to stay out of things, and this was one of those moments. He turned to dip out the way they came, glancing back at Elise, who followed out with him. Neither of them spoke until they were outside of the cave again.

"I'm sorry you got involved in this," Elise said after she stepped out. "I know things are a little tense."

"I get it," James said. "It's personal. You don't have to explain it to me. It's fine."

And the truth was, he didn't want her to explain anything because he felt like he already had a hint that he desperately didn't want to revisit.

Elise smiled up at him, but James could tell this one was forced. It looked sad.

"Do you have any siblings?" she asked out of the blue.

James blinked. He remembered his lie to Tula.

"Yes," he said. "An older brother. You?"

She nodded, looking out at the trees overhead. "So you're the younger one," she commented. "I think being the younger one makes you more lively and spirited. There's always a sense of responsibility associated with being the older sibling."

James was quiet for a moment, waiting to see if Elise would say more. She seemed to be thinking out loud, but that was where her thought ended.

"Yes," he decided to agree quietly. "There is."

"I've certainly always felt it," Elise went on. "And I think, as the older sibling, you should do everything you can to protect your younger siblings. Wouldn't you agree?"

A string of curse words flew through James's mind but stopped before they could reach his mouth.

"I'd say so," he said.

"I'm glad you understand," she said with the same sad smile as she glanced at him. "The others don't have siblings. Or at least..." She paused, then sighed. "I think it's just harder for them to understand," she finished softly.

"Elias is your younger brother," James deduced out loud. He looked over to Elise. "And you'd do anything in your power to get him back. To see him again. Is that right?"

Elise looked up at him, and her eyes seemed to soften as she again tried to keep up the appearance of a smile, but it became increasingly difficult for her to look sincere.

"Yes," she said sadly. "That's right. He brought me and the others so much joy when we were young. I'd do anything to return the favor now."

James offered Elise a small, empathetic smile.

"It sounds like you're a much better sister than you give yourself credit for," he said. He reached out to her shoulder and gave it a gentle but firm pat.

"Thank you," Elise said sincerely as she looked up at him. "I try to stay positive, and I don't dwell on what could have been different in the past. I just want to be there for him now, especially since we're so close. He's so close. To having joy again."

"When did he escape the sectors?" James asked.

"He never escaped," she said. "He was taken away from our home to officially become part of the military for the sectors." She paused. "He was only eighteen. He wasn't ready. He never was."

"I don't know of anyone who is truly prepared for the ravages of war," James said softly. "Nor the military."

Elise nodded. "I'm just glad he was finally able to escape," she said. "After almost ten years..."

"Ah," James said quietly, piecing it together. "He escaped the military."

"Yes," she said. "But the hideout is far from the safe zone and the sectors, hence why we'd need resoirces and personnel." She sighed. "I don't know what to do if I can't get this. The others are relying on me."

"How big of a party are you talking?" James asked.

"It's small," Elise answered. "Three ex-military, including Elias. And then several doctors, including me whenever I make it there."

"And how many escorts are you hoping to take with you?"

"I'm not completely sure of what dangers lie ahead to know for certain," she said slowly. "But I am hoping for one escort for every two people coming back."

James hummed.

"So... four to five, maybe."

"That would be ideal," Elise agreed. "But at this point, I'm hoping for at least something and someone. We plan on leaving with or without help."

Interesting.

"When?"

Elise glanced at him. "Next week," she said.

James looked out at the coastal view from the entrance of the cave with his hands in his pockets.

"Approximately how long would this rescue mission take? If you had to estimate," he continued.

Elise thought for a moment. "There are no reliable roads in the ungoverned lands, and there wouldn't be a way to charge even if I took a bike or vehicle. On foot, it would take about two months. And then about a month at the hideout before coming back. So in total, about five months, but it may take longer to come back since the party would be bigger. So, six months at most, assuming everything goes well."

"Would riding a mount cut down on travel time? At least, on the way there?" James asked.

For some reason it helped him to ask practical questions. He could divorce himself from the emotional weight of it all, if only for a moment.

"It would," she said. "Unfortunately, I don't know how to ride an animal, and I'm sure not everyone would know at the hideout, either."

"I assumed as much," James commented quietly.

Elise glanced at him again. "I know this isn't as personal to you as it is to the others," she said. "But I would appreciate it if you could help convince them."

James glanced back into the cave.

He had just barely mended the broken bridge between him and Evaline, and he didn't want to risk incurring her hatred over something that had nothing to do with him. He thought back to when she told him he was going to be on the council. It bothered her for the same reasons it bothered him. He wasn't from her world, and he had no right to play around in it.

But he didn't know just how real their quick reconciliation even was.

And he needed something to aim for. Something with higher stakes than raising plants. Something where... it would make sense. If there was an accident. Or a sudden disappearance.

And maybe Evaline wouldn't even want to come.

James looked over at Elise. If she was being honest, her story was worth helping. It was a worthy cause to save a brother once thought to be beyond saving.

He barely caught a mirthless laugh in the back of his throat before it escaped, and it made him nervous.

"I want to help you," he told Elise. "But I don't think I have the right to try and make this decision for them."

Elise looked up at him like she was processing his words for a moment. She lightly smiled and shook her head when she seemed to catch up.

"Matt -- I mean, James," she corrected. "Even bringing it up and mentioning all the details I told you is enough help for me. I'm not expecting anything else from you. I know you're also readjusting to your new life here, and the mission would be dangerous."

James looked at her and her incessant smiles.

"That doesn't worry me," he said with a calm confidence he didn't possess. "But... I suppose I could help clear up the logistics."

"Thank you," Elise said, and her smile faded as she looked beyond the shoreline, pausing for a moment. "You are brave. Brave, and courageous. It's admirable."

James's mouth twitched for a moment before he forced it into a shy smile.

"Save those compliments for when that's proven in deed, not just in word," he said as he looked out at the shoreline with her.

"Even so," Elise continued. "It takes a great deal of bravery to leave behind your comfortable home just to help out the brother of someone you don't know well. I respect that."

Sure, it could be bravery. Or a maybe it was a death wish.

"I figure I must have come here for a reason," he said, fully aware of how he sounded.

Elise hummed for a moment. "So you believe in fate?" she asked.

James clenched his fist tightly in his pocket, condensing the scream he wanted to release into one small part of his body.

"Something like that."

"I'm not sure I believe in fate," Elise said. "But if you do... then I am very glad that you think my cause is worth your future."

James was quiet for a moment and nodded. He let several seconds of silence pass between them.

Elise let out a long sigh. "Thank you," she said as she tore her gaze away to look at him. "For listening, and for caring."

"Of course, Elise," James said softly.

A few more minutes passed, and Elise no longer talked about Elias. Instead, she asked more about him and how he was doing. James told her about Terra and the recent harvest. He talked to her about Isabel, and Josiah, and things that were normal to hear.

Finally, the others' footsteps were heard coming down the tunnel, and Alistair, Mel, and Evaline exited wordlessly. They didn't look ecstatic, but --

"We've decided to help, Elise," Mel said with a small smile as she and the others formed a small circle to talk.

Elise's brows raised up, and she smiled warmly. "I'm so happy to hear that," she said as she gave everyone eye contact, although Evaline didn't seem to want to meet her eyes. "There's still so many things I haven't told you. Do you need more details?"

For the next ten to fifteen minutes, Elise answered everyone's questions, and she also told them everything she had already told James as well. Mel told her that she would check with the others and see what kind of team she could bring up, and she would communicate with Elise every day until she left. Alistair said he'd have to hurry back to make sure it was even possible he'd be able to leave that long, implying that he would go. Mel also implied that she would go, and kept saying "the three of us" - like Evaline was going to go too.

"Well, I think that answers all of our questions for now," Mel said, then glanced between everyone else. "We'll have to get a plan going, but we can talk more tomorrow. Elise, you can stay with me until we figure it out."

Alistair nodded. "Mel, I'll radio you when I come back. It may be a few days until I sort it out. You'll have to get me a list of things I should bring back."

"Will do," Mel said, then looked at Evaline.

"I'll keep in touch," was all Evaline said.

"This means so much," Elise said with utmost sincerity. "Really. Thank you."

Alistair nodded again and took a few steps back towards the bike. "Thanks for letting us know, Elise," he said, then glanced at James. "Ready to go?"

Mel took Elise aside to take her back through the caves and go to their destination, but Evaline stepped between James and Alistair.

"I can take you home if you'd like," she said to James. "Unless..." She glanced back at Alistair, who looked indifferent either way. "You'd rather go with Alistair. I don't mind either way."

James was thinking ahead.

If Evaline wanted to visit him tomorrow, there was a possibility she would want to stay the night again. If she stayed the night, she could find out that he wasn't sleeping anymore. If she stayed the night and he did sleep, he didn't know what dreams would wake him and how blurred the lines would become.

But he couldn't think of a reason to tell her no. It wasn't like him and Alistair had history, and Alistair didn't look like he cared. If he told her no, would she be suspicious? Would she think he was upset? Would she overthink it and turn on him again?

James looked between Evaline and Alistair briefly, but before he could verbalize his response, Alistair spoke.

"I don't mind taking him back," he said. "It's on the way."

This really shouldn't have been a hard decision.

Evaline glanced between the two of them, back and forth, before landing on James. "Okay," she said when he still didn't immediately respond. "I still plan on coming tomorrow, though."

James felt like his brain started working again. He flashed Evaline a slight smile.

"Good," he said a little too quickly, as if to make up for his several-seconds of silence. "I look forward to it."

Evaline tried to mimic his slight smile, but it came out looking forced. "Alright," she said softly, then back at Alistair. "Can you tell me when you're back from the sectors?"

"Will do," Alistair said, already walking towards his bike.

Evaline stepped out of the way and hung back despite having her own bike, watching as James followed Alistair, put on his helmet, and got ready to go.

"Oh, and Evaline?" Alistair said before putting on his own helmet with his bike revved up and ready to go.

"Yes?" she said expectedly.

"Take care of yourself."

He put on the helmet, and they were off.

The ride back was as uneventful as the ride there, taking the backroads at faster speeds for about thirty minutes. Alistair didn't say another word as they passed through Terra's gates and landed back in front of his cottage, rolling to a stop.

"We're here," Alistair announced as he set his foot on the ground to steady the bike, taking his helmet off, but not hopping off.

James took off his helmet and hopped off.

"Thanks," he said as he handed the helmet back to him.

"No problem," Alistair answered, securing the extra helmet. He paused for a moment. "I'm not sure why I was requested to bring you to that meeting in the first place, but I hope you got something out of it."

James looked at him and shrugged slightly.

"It was nice to talk to Elise for a little bit," he said simply.

Alistair let out quick breath through his nose in amusement. "She is nice," he said simply as well.

There was a brief pause before James picked up the silence.

"That she is," he said, taking in a deep breath. "Well... I guess I'll see you later."

"Yeah," Alistair said with a nod, and then steadied his bike again. "I'll see you."

And that was that. He put his helmet back on and drove off, only giving him a small wave as he turned the bike around and then bounded down the road, out of sight.

James went back inside, and in the silence of the small cottage he stood still by the door, looking at Sleepy, who was content in her cage with all of the food and water he'd already prepared for her. By now, it was evening, and the sun would set in a few short hours.

James's stomach was still empty, and he didn't want to eat. What he wanted was to sleep, but he didn't have any pills to help him anymore, and he was tired. So tired.

He went over to his shelf, where he'd put the motion sickness medicine. He didn't know how powerful of a drug it was, but he looked at the bottle. There were so many things written in small print - a long list of potential ailments if the drug was abused. He didn't read it all the way through before he saw the recommended dosage and decided to triple it.

This time, he swallowed it all down with water. Then, he went to lie down, waiting for it to hit.

Whatever it was.

It started with his vision. Things were getting blurry, but not from tears. In fact, his eyes, mouth, and nose felt dry, and his ears were starting to ring. He thought for a moment that it was a dream, calling to him. He just had to focus on the signal to hear it, but nothing seemed to come. Just noise.

Then it was his heart. This feeling was familiar. The rapid heartbeat, and the entire world melting around him. Even though he was lying down, he could feel his body shaking, like the earth beneath him was experiencing constant tremors, over and over. The nausea was familiar too, and he was almost happy that it came. He missed it.

He didn't bother to move as he endured it. The discomfort and the pain was a comfort - it was how things were supposed to be, and at least this time it was on his own terms. James closed his eyes and rolled over as a wave of drowsiness washed over him, and he took in a deep breath.

A knock at the door stirred him, and for a moment, he questioned if someone was actually there. But the knocking became more rhythmic, and more insistent. Had the time come already? A day had passed? James rolled back over, looking at his door. Though the door was opaque, he could see a shadow of a figure behind it, and they were still knocking. They paused for a moment, as if they heard him move, but then they kept going.

James got to his feet, and the whole world spun for a moment before it came into a sharp focus. It was as if everything was sharp. Every small edge carried a blade. Every detail was screaming at him. The grooves in the wood on the floor. The particles of dust in the air. The shine on the glass on the window.

He found the doorknob, and he stared down at it, like it was calling to him. As he held it, it seemed to pulsate, like it had a heartbeat of its own. When he turned it, it felt like it melted into his hand and melded to his skin. He tore the door open, expecting to see Evaline, or someone from the council. But instead, he was looking at Carter.

He looked older. The last time he'd seen Carter, his hair was shoulder length, and he had a mustache that twirled on either side. Now, his hair was cropped short and he had a beard, and he seemed different in more than just his appearance.

He was no longer wearing the kingdom armor. Now, he wore simple peasant clothes, and he was looking up at James with earnest.

"James," he said, looking up into his eyes. "I found you. I didn't think I'd make it in time."

Before James could reply, Carter pushed past him into the cottage, and for a moment, he seemed to move like a shadow, but then he came back into focus. James couldn't rip himself away from the doorknob. His hand was stuck.

Carter whipped around to face him and James found himself slowly lowering to the floor, landing on his knees. The ringing in his ears grew louder and louder, and he watched as Carter's mouth moved, but there were no words coming out. Carter came closer and bent down so they were face to face, and he put his hand on James's shoulder. Finally, his voice cut through the noise.

"You're not supposed to be here. There was a rift in the timeline. Don't listen to them. They're lying to you. This isn't Earth, it's a prison. They want to keep you here forever. They won't let you die."

Carter's voice came as a warning.

James tried again to pull his hand off the door handle, but it was agonizing. Piercing, burning pain shot through his hand, down his arm, to his heart.

"I can't stay long," Carter continued as James screamed out in pain - but he couldn't hear his own voice as it dissolved into silence.

"I'm sorry," Carter said. "Sorry for everything I put you through. You didn't deserve this."

Carter's hand came up to cup James's cheek, and James met Carter's eyes. This time his vision blurred because of tears. Carter's other hand took James's, prying it off the door handle for him, and he held it firmly.

"I'm sorry," Carter said. "It'll all be over soon."

James wasn't sure where Carter went after that. He could remember leaning forward, and feeling something make its way up his throat, and then he was on all fours on the floor, dry-heaving.

He crawled his way back to his bed, fighting back convulsions and spasms, and eventually he made it to the foot of his bed, but every time he tried to push himself up off the floor, he'd collapse right back down onto it. His face was flush with the floor when he heard footsteps carry over to him. Someone was running in.

"James!" came Mel's voice, but he could hear more footsteps following behind her.

Gods, no, he didn't want it to happen this way. He didn't want someone to find him like this.

"Are you okay?" she said as she ran up to him, bending over to offer her hand.

James couldn't get up, nor could he turn his head to look up at her. He could feel a pool of drool from where his mouth was up against the wood.

"Baby man just needs a nap," Hendrik's gruff voice said near the doorway. James could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Hendrik!" Mel scolded. "Help him up! I can't do it myself."

Hendrik sighed, and James could hear him walk towards him with heavy footsteps. "Fine," he said. "Let daddy help you up."

His hands held his armpits as he started to lift him up out of the ground like a ragdoll.

Mel poked his cheek when Hendrik lifted him enough to be on his feet, although he still supported his weight.

"You okay?" she asked. "Did you fall asleep on the floor? I gave you a bed, you know."

"Yes," James answered, but his voice came out sounding like a different person entirely, like the voice wasn't his own. It belonged to someone else.

Mel hummed as Hendrik helped guide him towards the bed so he could sit on his own. But the moment Hendrik plopped him down, James fell backwards onto his bed.

"You fell asleep too early, silly," Mel said with a smile in her voice. "I brought food. Are you hungry?"

"Does he look hungry?" Hendrik said to her. "He's practically asleep."

"But maybe he's so tired, he's hungry," she countered. "Right, Tiberius?"

James stared up at them, and his eyes locked onto Mel's face as she uttered the name she wasn't supposed to know. But maybe that was who he was, now.

"I overslept," he said. "Through my shift."

"He's lying," Malkiel's voice came across the room.

James hadn't even realized he was in the room until now. Who else was there?

"His breathing patterns are different," Malkiel continued. "He didn't oversleep. Carter just came to visit him."

A bolt of terror shot through him, and it was like he had a startling moment of realization. Carter had been his only true friend. Everyone else was lying to him. Carter was good enough to tell James who he really was. He was good enough to warn him of the other's plans, and he was good enough to try to help him finish this. Everyone else was just getting in the way. They didn't really care about him.

James was lying. Everyone was lying. Nothing was real anymore.

He shot up out of his bed, ready to fight, but as he looked around the room, no one was there.

He blinked away tears and bleariness, and looked wildly around the room, even swiping at where Mel and Hendrik used to be, but there was nothing. He could hear music playing distantly, and when he looked over to the table, he realized he left the casette player going. He'd forgetten he even turned it on.



He stumbled over to the table, and he hit the off button, but the music kept playing. He laughed loudly, but it was an empty, mirthless laugh, and he sat down on the bench, burying his face in his arms.

At that moment, he could feel the warmth of morning light spilling in through the front door. He must have left it open, or maybe Mel and the others left it open when they left. He didn't move, and instead let the warmth wash over him until it was burning, like he was sleeping too close to a fire, and about to roll into it. The flames were licking at his skin.

And then he felt a hand on his shoulder. It ripped him away from his daydream, and he slowly lifted his head, looking up to see who it was.

It was Tula. He felt like disappearing under her hand, but her grip felt like she was clinging onto him.

"Hey, romance boy," she said as she leaned in to speak in his ear. "Did you miss me?"

James opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. His mouth was dry and parched, and he could feel his lips start to crack.

"Aww," Tula cooed as she clicked her tongue, still leaning in. "You look a little tense. Why don't I help you relax?"

Without waiting for his response, she slid her hands on his back, massaging under his shoulder blades in a rhythmic circular motion. James felt a stabbing pain in his chest, and he crunched forward, bringing his face back down on the table. Tula kept digging into his skin, and each movement seemed to make his ears ring louder and louder. After a few seconds of this, her hands started to inch down his back until she slid them under his shirt so she was massaging his bare skin.

"No need to be scared," she said, leaning in so she was speaking in his ear. "Scars build character."

James felt a sting of panic, and he twisted around to face her, but when he looked up at her, he realized they weren't alone. Rita was standing behind Tula, and she sat down right next to him so that their legs touched, and she put her arm around his shoulders.

"You just need to have a little fun," Rita said. "Loosen up a little."

"That's right," Tula said, her fingers still on his back. "Don't you want this?"

James's vision seemed to blur out of focus again, and he tried to push Rita and Tula away, but his movements felt weak, and his body was trembling again. He suddenly keeled over, and he felt Rita and Tula's hands reach for him, but they failed to catch his fall.

"Oh, honey, you don't look so good," came Rita's voice before everything went black.

He woke up on the floor, on his back, staring at the ceiling. The sun was up (again?) and he could hear birds chittering outside the window.

He noticed at some point, he'd changed clothes. He couldn't remember changing, but he was in a fresh set of clothes. As he sat up, he could see a pile of dirty clothes on the floor. It looked like they were dirtied with vomit and blood, but he didn't know whose blood it was. It had to be his own, but he didn't feel like he was bleeding.

He walked over to the bloodied shirt and pants, picking them up. There was a gaping hole in his shirt over his chest, over where his heart would be. He slipped his fingers through the hole, feeling the wet, frayed edges, trying to discern if it was real. It felt real. It smelled real.

He hurried to clean them, grabbing a bucket of water and working up suds. Furiously, he scrubbed against the stains of blood, but no matter how hard he scrubbed, they wouldn't come out.

He had to hide it. He couldn't have people finding bloody clothes. They would grow suspicious, even if they were his own.

James abandoned the cleaning bucket and ran to his bed. He scraped the bedframe out of the way and pried up the plank of wood, shoving the clothes beside the other hidden things. He was going to hide it away again, but he froze when he stared down at the note. The second note.

There was a second verse.

With his hands trembling - he'd forgotten they were still spasming - he ripped the paper out of the hole and brought it inches from his face to read it.



James started laughing. It started slow, in the back of his throat, and it grew louder, and his voice cracked. The laugh seemed to split and morph into weeping, but he had no tears. Just a loud, agonizing groan that ripped through his burning throat as he tried to tear the cursed piece of paper in half. But his grip failed, and the invincible piece of paper flew out of his hands and fluttered on the floor beside him.

James cursed at it and nailed the board back into the floor. He left the piece of paper where it was, and pushed the bed back over it, so it was hidden.

He couldn't remember what happened next. He could've sworn he got up and did something. He could remember feeling like he was going through the motions again. Sleepy had been chirping, right? She was hungry. He'd fed her. Yes, he double checked her cage. She had food.

But then he checked again, and again, and again. He couldn't tell if the food was there or not. How was she eating it so fast? It wasn't until the little bowl of food started overflowing that he fumbled with the bag of feed and stopped, setting it aside and wandering over to his couch.

It felt like his entire body was pulsing, and his heart burned and ached and twisted inside of him like an angry bruise. He leaned his head over the couch and reached over to his window, pushing the curtains aside, not having recalled if they were ever open or closed. He peeked out into the sunshine, and it blinded him.

He pinched his eyes shut and then opened them again, and he looked outside, seeing Elliot in the paddock.

When had James let him out?

James couldn't come up with an answer, and instead, he found himself closing his eyes again, succumbing to another wave of drowsiness.

This time, he was sure he was sleeping.

He felt a poke in his side, and his side, and he opened his eyes, looking over. He couldn't quite process what he was looking at at first. It was a golden wolf, and her nose was right up in his face, sniffing him. But when he opened his mouth and let out a raspy breath, her form shifted instantly in front of his eyes.

Amy.

She sat next to him on the couch, and she was leaning in with her big blue eyes pinned on him. She still had the same freckled skin, and the same messy, boyish hair. Her mouth spread into a relieved smile, and he saw the same gap between her two front teeth.

It was like she hadn't aged a day.

"You're finally awake!" she said, rushing forward and pulling him into a hug. "You made it! I didn't know how long it would take for you to get here. I'm so happy you're awake. It's just us out here, now. But we're going to be okay."

She pulled away from the hug, and somehow James felt like he understood.

He was dead. This must've been whatever was left for him after death. Amy had been waiting for him. To see him again.

He looked into her eyes, seeing flashes of her dead, prone body jump across his vision. Like this picture of her was broken. But he couldn't even bother being disturbed about it.

He never thought he'd see her again like this. Alive, in whatever way this was.

He reached out to touch her arm, to see if it was just an illusion. She felt like flesh and bone.

Amy looked down at where he was poking her arm and then looked back up at him.

"You seem... off," she said slowly. "Something's wrong, isn't it?"

James didn't respond. He only stared at her arm.

"Did you try to... you know," she said softly. "Hurt yourself? Again?"

James couldn't bring himself to tell her. He was too ashamed. Ashamed that he wasn't strong enough to reach out for help. Ashamed that he wasn't strong enough to endure all of this by himself.

"It's okay," she said. "I'm here now."

She brought him in for a hug again, and they stayed like that for a long time.

Eventually, he found himself alone on the couch, lying on his side, and Amy was gone. For the first time in - well, he didn't know how long - he started feeling lucid. The pain in his chest had faded, and he wasn't shaking anymore, but he still felt horrible. Exhausted wasn't strong enough a word to do it justice.

He felt like he'd narrowly escaped death.

Again.

He sat up on the couch, feeling disappointed. His eyes landed on Sleepy, who looked like she wanted out of the cage. She looked restless. He got up and opened the cage door and picked her up, setting her on his shoulder. Then he turned for the door and headed outside.

Elliot was still out there, grazing. The sun was inching towards the horizon, but it looked like there were a few hours left.

He wondered if Evaline had come by already. He honestly couldn't tell, but he made his way to Elliot, deciding to introduce Sleepy to Elliot for the first time.

Sleepy seemed curious as James lifted her up with two hands towards Elliot's face, and Elliot seemed indifferent. He simply ignored Sleepy as she fluttered her fluffy little wings. James lifted her up to Elliot's neck and watched her warily walk across Elliot's back. Elliot still seemed unperturbed, and James gave him an affectionate pat.

"You're doing great, buddy," he said softly. Elliot continued grazing.

Sleepy eventually inched a little too far to the side, and James scooped her up before she fell off of Elliot. He held her in his hands and turned around to bring her back inside, but when he turned around, he saw Evaline's bike rolling up to it.

"Hi," she said as she parked the bike and started to walk towards him, her eyes falling down to Sleepy in his hands.

James glanced down at Sleepy and then ducked under the paddock rope, stepping onto the road to meet her.

"Hey," he said.

They both walked forward until they stood across from each other, and Evaline loosely crossed her arms, still looking down at Sleepy.

"I see some things have changed since last I visited," she said. "I'm glad Hendrik gave you a farm animal."

"Ah, yeah," James said. He lifted Sleepy up for Evaline to see. "Her name is Sleepy."

She paused for a moment. "Because she sleeps a lot?"

"Sometimes," James mused. "A healthy chick doesn't sleep that much, actually. Sleepy is healthy. I just thought the name was cute."

Evaline nodded, and a small silence passed as she lifted her gaze to look at him instead. Studying, or observing, he didn't know.

"Harvested all your fields already?" she asked.

"Oh, yes," James said, glancing at them. "This past week was busy. Tiring, but rewarding."

"I see," she said as she glanced out at the empty fields. "I can't believe it's almost been three months."

James was about to make a comment about how he was getting close to the four month mark, and if he made it past that, he'd have been on Earth longer than she was in Nye. But he decided it was in poor taste.

"I would make a joke about time flying by," he said. "But I've heard too many already."

"Yeah," she murmured. "I have too." She turned back towards him with the edge of her lip slightly arching up, but it seemed forced. "I hope... things have been good," she said again after a short pause. "So far. For you, over these past three months."

James started petting Sleepy's head, and she chirped happily.

"I think it's been good," he blatantly lied. "To... be away from... you know--"

"That's not what I meant," Evaline interrupted quickly before he could finish the thought. There was a brief pause as she looked up at him with worry, but then started talking again.

"That's not what I meant," she repeated. "I just meant -- I hope your time here has been... not bad. Safe. Content. Happy, even. That's all I meant by that."

James could tell that Evaline looked worried. He hadn't had time to look himself in the mirror before she came, but he wondered if he was letting anything leak out through his face. He had a gut feeling that if he said his times on earth had been happy without acknowledging his appearance that she wouldn't believe him anyway.

"Ah," he said, letting a small pause pass. "Well. I've been... safe. I wouldn't say it's been bad."

Evaline let her gaze linger on him for another moment before looking back over at her bike. "Are you busy right now?" she asked.

James glanced down at Sleepy, and he lifted Sleepy up to his face.

"What's that?" he said, turning his ear to Sleepy. "Hm. She says we're not busy. She wants to go to bed now, it seems. Typical."

Evaline let out a faint smile as she watched him. "I wanted to take you somewhere this evening," she said. "If that's okay."

"If you give me a few minutes to get Sleepy and Elliot situated for the night, I'll be ready," he said, giving Sleepy another pet.

"No problem. I'll wait for you."

As promised, Evaline waited for James by her bike as he spent the next couple minutes getting his animals ready.

She was glad he seemed... okay. He seemed a bit spacey, which was odd for James, but she decided not to think too much of it. She also noticed that he didn't agree that he was "happy" in Terra, but this didn't surprise her either. Even she didn't know what it meant to be happy. But at least he agreed that he felt safe.

She knew that she had caused another rift between them, and as usual, she came running back, trying to pretend that nothing was different. Today she hoped that she could at least... change. Try to be better. The context was different now.

When James was done, he began to walk towards her from the shed, ready to go. Evaline lifted the kickstands and started the bike, waiting for him to hop on.

"Are you comfortable riding?" she asked.

James stood behind the bike, and it looked like he was thinking. Then, his eyes widened slightly, and he glanced back toward the cottage.

"Motion sickness," he said quickly. "Medicine. One second."

He hurried back into the cottage and left the door slightly ajar.

Evaline stared at him leave as only one thought played in her mind: how did he get motion sickness medicine?

She wanted to ask who he got the medicine from, but she didn't want to start the night with apprehension. He would panic once he realized it wasn't from her, and the remainder of the night would result in paranoia.

Evaline didn't want that. Yes, she'll have this discussion with him. Just not yet.

"Wait," she said. "It's a quick bike ride. Just fifteen minutes away. Do you still need it?"

There was a few seconds pause before James reappeared in the doorway.

"Ah," he said. "Sorry. I thought it would be longer. I just didn't want a repeat of last time."

He walked back over to the bike after closing the door behind him, hopping on the bike behind her.

"It's okay," she said, pushing the thought aside, even though it prickled her skin like little needles she couldn't pull off with her fingers. "I can still drive slower for you. If you do feel sick, will you let me know if you want me to stop?"

"Yeah," James said from behind her. "I can do that."

"Okay," she said with a nod, ready to go. "Hold on."

And with that, they drove off, heading past Terra's gate and taking an immediate turn, driving along the outside of the gate. Unknowingly to Evaline, James had ridden around this area before. She seemed to be heading towards the river.

The drive was indeed about fifteen minutes long, and she parked the bike next to a thicket of trees, gesturing towards a faint trail in front of them.

"We'll walk through there," she said, then looked back at him. "Are you feeling okay?"

James got off the bike and he nodded. He looked a little wobbly on his feet for a moment before he steadied himself.

"Yeah," he said.

Evaline hopped off the bike as well, securing it in place and then brushing back her windswept hair as she started to walk down the trail, motioning for James to follow, which he did.

"I hope you're fine with a quick stroll," she said idly. "It's a little out of the way, but I wanted to bring you here."

"I don't mind," James answered as he walked up beside her.

There was a short silence as the only noises heard were the light breeze and the sound of their shoes crunching against the fallen leaves on the ground. It was a bit chilly since it was autumn, and a small chill went down her spine.

"I saw that you made a rocking chair," she commented, thinking back to when she was in front of his porch. "It looks nice."

"Oh," he said, sounding surprised like she'd noticed. Or maybe he'd had it for a while. "Thanks."

Another small silence passed.

"Do you sit on it often?" she asked.

James let out a small laugh, but it sounded thin.

"Usually in the evenings," he said.

"During sunset," she finished. "Right?"

"Yeah. And I like to read on it too."

Evaline thought back to his bookshelf. She remembered that he was a fast reader, and she also remembered that he had picked up the entire volume of French that she had used to learn it herself.

"Have you read everything in your bookshelf?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered. "Some of them a few times, now."

Evaline slowly nodded, still focused on the path in front of her. And she decided to take a risk.

"(You've always been a fast reader,)" she said in French, wondering if he'd understand.

"(What can I say? I've always been that way, even since I learned to read,)" he answered back in French.

Evaline let out a small smile. His pronunciation was impressive for only having had the books for a little over a month.

"(It seems that you can add fast learner to that as well,)" she added, still speaking in French. "(I hope it hasn't been too boring for you to learn by yourself.)"

"(I wouldn't say it's been boring. It is definitely more difficult, though,)" he answered. He stumbled through the last word a little, but she understood.

"(I suppose it would be helpful if there was someone else who knew the language so that they could help you enunciate your words better,)" she mused.

"(That would be helpful. Yes,)" he answered.

"(I'll search for someone, then. For you,)" Evaline replied as she glanced up at him.

It looked like he forced a little smile, and then looked away.

"(Thanks,)" he said.

Evaline paused, silently sighing.

"(I was talking about me,)" she said. "(I'm that someone. I'd be happy to have conversations in French with you, like we're doing now.)"

James's eyes flicked back over to her, but then he looked back down at the path in front of them. He laughed a little again, but it was a weak laugh.

"Oh," he said. "(That would be nice.)"

Evaline knew they were getting closer to the destination because she could hear it before seeing it. It was a faint white noise.

"Hold that thought," she said as she walked a little faster, beckoning for him to follow. "We're almost there."

James followed behind her, and she couldn't help but feel a little nervous as they approached, but she made sure to lead the way so it wasn't obvious in her expression. The noise started to become increasingly obvious, too.

Surely James had already figured out that she was taking him to a waterfall, right? It wasn't big, but... well, she didn't even know if he'd already seen it. He didn't say anything about this path before, so she assumed not, so she'd rather try to keep it a surprise.

Evaline weaved through a couple more trees and pulled away branches that got in their way, careful to not let go right away so it wouldn't snap back to James. They weaved through more trees and branches until they reached a clearing.

"Here we are," Evaline announced, trying to force a nervous smile as she glanced between James and the scene in front of her.

They were in front of a river, and at a near distance was a small waterfall cascading down into the stones below. It wasn't too close that it would be hard to hear, but it was close enough for them to enjoy the view. The sunset seemed to shimmer in the mist.

But more importantly, between them and the river was a stump. On the stump was a tablecloth with a covered pan of food, a canteen of water, and a small basket of covered items. There was a small vase of assorted wild flowers that Evaline put together as well.

James stood still and stared. For a moment, he almost looked dumbfounded.

Evaline didn't wait for him to respond as she quickly unzipped her pack in front of her and pulled out a harmonica.

She wasn't a harmonica player, but she had practiced this enough times for this moment. She blew on it, too focused to put her fingers on the right holes as she played that stupid birthday song that she didn't like, but knew he may have enjoyed since he had done the same to her five years ago.

When finished, she took a deep breath and held the harmonica with one hand, looking up at him.

James was still staring at her with wide eyes, but she saw they were starting to tear up.

"I --" she began, but then decided to be more careful with her words. She wasn't expecting him to be emotional. "I don't know if you've been keeping track, but... It's November 27th. It's your birthday."

She gestured around them, a nervous laugh escaping her throat. "So... happy... birthday?"

James continued to stare blankly as tears began to stream down his face.

Evaline didn't know what she was expecting, but she wasn't expecting this.

"I'm -- I'm sorry," she said quickly, then sighed and decided to talk in a gentler tone. "If this is a little much. I just thought I'd surprise you. I should have told you first. I thought you'd like the surprise, but... I should have known that you don't like them. I hope this is fine. For you."

Before Evaline could finish her sentence, James's face scrunched up and he closed his eyes. She watched as he fell on his hands and knees and started to weep quietly.

Evaline was shocked, to say the least. But she shoved down the shock as she kneeled beside him, her expression softening because she wanted him to feel happy, not sad.

"Hey," she said gently. "Everything is okay. We can do whatever you want instead. I'm happy to do that."

James was nonresponsive for as he continued to cry, and he let out a deep, ugly sob.

This plan was doomed from the start since she had stolen so many elements from when he celebrated her birthday in Nye five years ago.

They both had mutually agreed that it was a good memory. Right? They had? Was she mistaking it for something else? Maybe she just thought it was a good memory.

"I'm sorry if this is... painful," she said softly, sitting next to him with her knees up, letting him have his space to cry. "I should have been more considerate. I'm sorry for having you relive it."

James was still crying, and he didn't look up at her, nor did he seem like he would stop any time soon.

Evaline decided to not push it. She'd wait patiently for him to finish. And whenever he was ready, she was ready to have a conversation.

This wasn't how she expected the evening to go, but... she was prepared, now.

Was she?

Evaline looked out towards the river, watching the waterfall and how the sunset's rays hit the water and the mist.

A minute passed by in silence as James continued to cry. And then he spoke.

"I wanted to die," James let out in a warbled cry as he curled up within himself. The last word rang out, turning into a high pitched hiccup before he sobbed again.

For a second or two, Evaline questioned his words because it didn't feel real. But she wasn't going to ask him to repeat that. Not if those words were intentional.

She slowly turned towards him, and she felt her walls go down. The walls of concealment, of keeping her emotions in check. It went down during their last tense conversation, and it was going down again. But this was under a different context.

"You wanted..." she said softly, but more to herself. Because she couldn't believe his words. "James," she said, trying to keep her voice steady and calm. "I want to give you many things. But I would never... I would never fulfill that wish."

She wondered the context of that. No one was out to get him, yet he still wanted it. Wanted to die.

Evaline tore her gaze away from him, knowing that he was likely going through bouts of shame and guilt, and she didn't want to reaffirm that with her overly-concerned gaze.

"I don't want you to fulfill that wish either," she finished quietly.

James let out a sob that seemed to mix with a gut-wrenching groan. She watched as he curled up even tighter, holding his head down in a ball.

Evaline felt her stomach twist seeing him like this. Not out of pity. Out of sadness and empathy. Seeing him like this made her heart ache.

She wanted to help him, but she didn't know how. She didn't know the right words to say to just change his mind -- and she was convinced that none existed. You couldn't just say a few words and expect someone to turn their life around. This took time.

Time that Terra failed to give him. That she failed to give him.

She wanted to reach out and hold him, but she knew that he was sensitive to touch. Possibly more now than never. It wasn't her right to test that theory right now.

She just needed to be there for him. Let him know that she was here if he wanted comfort.

"I'm here if you want a shoulder to cry on," she said, hating that she had absently said a cliche phrase, but it was true.

Even though she had told James that she wasn't sure if she could be friends, that didn't mean she wouldn't be there for him.

She hoped that wasn't his assumption. That he assumed she'd stop caring about him.

Unless she decided to go through permanent memory deletion, Evaline didn't think it was possible for her to ever stop caring about him.

James slowly stuck his arms out as his head hung down. He was heaving and breathing hard, and she watched as he slowly turned his face to look at her over his shoulder. His face and eyes were red with tears, and it looked almost like he'd run out of tears to cry. His face was puffy, and his exhaustion became increasingly obvious, like he was no longer trying to conceal it.

"How do I know if you're even real?" he rasped, looking both desperate and deeply sad. "You're just saying things to make me feel better... it's just words. Words."

That stung a little. It was almost like she was looking through a mirror, talking to her past self.

There were a lot of questions and implications behind his words, but now was not the time for it. She needed to prove that she was sincere without words. She could do that, although it came with a risk.

Evaline slowly crawled towards him and then reached out to put her hand over his. She held his gaze, trying to look sincere and brave for him, so that he would know that she was serious that she meant her words. She hoped that -- like the times they had in Nye -- he could look into her eyes and know that there was something there. A question and phrase said without words.

James met her eyes and stared back into them, and what she could see behind his eyes looked like terror. His eyes looked glazed over, like he was looking at her without seeing her.

"I can't--" James said stiffly, but he didn't finish as his face contorted in pain and he fell down onto the ground, failing to catch himself as he was on his way to hitting the ground, but Evaline caught him before he could do that.

"I have you," she said as she lifted his shoulders up.

She had to close her eyes to take a deep breath, trying to not let her emotions get to her. James needed someone reliable right now.

"I have you," she repeated, gently easing up on her grip on his shoulders.

She was sitting bent on her knees in front of him, and if he wanted to fall again, she'd let him. Because she'd gladly let him fall on her and she'd gladly pull him into a hug if that was what he so desired.

"I'm sorry it's hard," she said softly, not quite meeting his eyes since she didn't want to scare him again. "I'm here. I'm here if you need me, and I can help."

James went limp in her arms, falling forward towards her chest, and Evaline straightened up just in time to catch him, pulling her arms around him as his head went over her shoulder.

"Please," James whimpered with his head buried in her chest. "Please just finish me off now. I can't take it anymore. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"I would never do that, James," she said softly in his ear, blankly staring at the leaves overhead. "You deserve to live. You deserve to live life to the fullest."

"I've already tried," he said through a sob. "I've tried. I've tried. I've tried. And I ruin it every time."

"I'm sorry," Evaline said, closing her eyes so that she could focus more on his words, his body in her embrace, his sobs. "I'm sorry that you were driven to this point. I'm sorry that your life wasn't filled with happiness and peace of mind. I'm sorry that you have experienced great pain. No one deserves that, James."

It sounded like James's sobs were beginning to subside, but he was still breathing heavily. She could hear his breathing, raspy and pained.

"And you don't deserve it, either," she continued on. "You don't deserve a life of pain and sadness. But if you end it now, that was all it ever will be. There are so many more years left to experience joy. And I'm so sorry that it has taken you this long, and you feel as though that you cannot find it. I'm sorry that you feel like you don't deserve to find happiness."

James's breathing slowly quieted as she spoke, but he still didn't move.

"Because you do deserve happiness, James," she finished. "We all do. And especially you... Especially you."

She felt James shift, and he started to weakly pull away from her, turning his face away so she couldn't see. He almost looked confused as he glanced at her and then looked at their surroundings.

"It didn't work," he said in a hushed whisper.

Evaline was afraid to know the answer, but she asked it anyways.

"What didn't work?" she asked gently.

"I can't wake up," he said a little louder. "I can't - I can't get out." His words sounded more and more urgent. She watched as he started to claw at the dirt. "I can't get out. I can't get out. I'm asleep. I need to wake up."

With each passing word he started to grab his arms, and his face, scraping at his skin and his clothes.

James must have thought he was dreaming. He didn't know if this was real. She knew what that was like. She knew how difficult this was for him. But she didn't have time to discuss reality checks, and she knew they didn't have the resources right now. They only had each other, and this mess of a birthday party that somehow went wrong.

"I'm real," she affirmed confidently, but knew that James wouldn't believe her. "Ask me anything. I swear to you, James. I'm real."

James pinched his eyes shut and put his hands on his ears, and he began rocking back and forth.

"I just want it to be over," he rasped in a whisper.

Evaline knew there was only so much she could do. She looked at him with an understanding pain as she sat next to him defeatedly.

They just had to wait it out. For a few minutes. He'd understand.

Still, something tugged in her memory. It was like an old spark was reignited in her mind, and it was at this moment that she realized she could help. Maybe it wasn't significant, but maybe... just her being there, singing a familiar lullaby that his dad used to sing him, would help him feel more grounded.

Evaline started to hum the song James sang to her when she was crying on his shoulder in Nye. She couldn't remember the majority of the lyrics, but she did remember the last verse. It had bored in her head that day, and she was just reminded of it. Reminded of how much the verse meant for her, and now she wanted to pass the important back to him.



When she finished humming and singing, she sat there in silence for a few seconds, daring to look over at James to gauge his reaction. He'd stopped rocking, and eventually pulled his hands away from his ears, but his eyes had stayed shut. When he opened them, he didn't look at her at first. He looked out at the waterfall, the stump, and he turned to her last. He still had that vacant stare, but as he made eye contact with her it was like a look of recognition passed over his face, like something clicked.

Finally. He was seeing her again.

His eyes widened, and he turned away quickly.

"Fuck!" he almost shouted. "It's real."

Evaline wasn't sure if she should have felt bad or relieved that James realized that he was no longer dreaming. She wanted to be patient with him, letting him open up at his own pace now that he was aware of his reality.

"I'm glad this is real," she said, and she meant it, even though this evening didn't go how she thought it'd go at all. "Thank you. For telling me."

James glanced at her, and his face was painted with worry and sadness. "No, no, no," he repeated, bringing hands up to cover his face. "Gods, Evaline, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry--" she could hear his voice hitch in his throat, like he'd started to cry again. But he was pushing through it to talk to her.

"I didn't mean for you to see me like this. I didn't mean to-- and you put this all together just for me, and here I am, ruining it. I should've just-- I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Evaline slowly reached out to place her hand on his knee. She knew he didn't ask for it, but she didn't want him to spiral into self-pity. She was hoping the touch would ground him.

"You didn't ruin it," she said gently. "I just wanted to give you a day you could remember." She paused. "I think I succeeded."

It was supposed to be a lighthearted jab, but she knew the statement was true. It was unlikely either of them could ever forget the intensity of the last several minutes.

James furiously wiped and rubbed his face with his hands and turned his face towards Evaline, but his eyes looked so puffy, and he was squinting as more tears came running out.

"Evaline," James said as his lower lip trembled. "I don't know if I'll even remember this correctly. It's all mixing together. I don't- I can't even--"

He looked down at her hand on his knee and she could see how he seemed to cringe and his shoulders curved inward as he hugged himself around his chest, like he was protecting it.

Evaline immediately let go, returning her hand to her knees. "I'm sorry," she said, but kept on talking so James wouldn't try to dissuade her apology. "Are you having a hard time differentiating dreams from reality?"

James blinked hard, like he was trying to clear his vision as he looked back up at her.

"Yes," he said breathily, like it came out with a sigh.

Evaline nodded in understanding, trying to give him her undivided attention, but she didn't want to stare or study him. She just wanted to listen.

"I can't sleep anymore," he said, pushing down what sounded like another cry in the back of his throat. "All I see are nightmares. It just keeps getting worse, and worse. And the worst ones feel real. It all feels real."

"I'm sorry you are going through that," Evaline said in a gentle voice. "It sounds so difficult. I know. I understand." She paused for a moment. "If it helps, I can teach you a few reality checks you can do so you can at least separate the dreams from reality. Maybe that could help with your peace of mind."

She saw James's gaze grow a little more vacant again. Though he nodded, it looked like his mind went somewhere else. She saw him look down at his hand, and he turned it over, like he was inspecting it.

"I just want to help," she added. "I want you to be able to sleep soundly again."

James nodded again, but he didn't meet her gaze. His brows were knit together tightly, like he was deep in thought.

After a brief hesitation, Evaline unzipped her pack around her waist and quietly dug through it to find an item. When she found it, she extended it out to him.

It was a mechanical golden pocket watch that barely fit in the palm of her hand. It made faint clicking sounds as the second hand was moving to indicate the time.

"Looking at the time helped me, at first," she said. "Because dreams are a timeless void. The time is always different in any given moment you look at a clock."

James hesitantly reached out for the clock and looked down at it as he held it in both hands.

"Thank you," he said quietly, though she could tell there was more he wanted to say just seeing the tension in his face and his body.

Evaline decided to keep going, not wanting to pry whatever he was holding back. She wanted him to want to say it.

"Writing down the dreams is helpful as well," she said. "The moment you get up, write it down. A nightmare could twist the words as you write, but it would never show in reality. You would have a visible log of everything that didn't happen. You don't have to just keep it in your head."

James kept his eyes on the watch.

"What if I can't tell when I wake up?" he asked in a whisper. "What if I wake up a dozen times, and none of them are real?"

"Writing helps with false awakenings," she answered. "Even if you wake up a dozen times and you write the same thing, eventually you'll wake up and find that it was already written. That's how you know you've woken up."

James nodded again, still cradling the watch.

"I hope this all helps," Evaline said softly after a few silent seconds passed.

James wrapped his fingers around the watch, and then bowed his head, taking in a very deep breath before he let out an equally long sigh. Even so, he looked just as tense.

He looked up at her, still unable to meet her eyes.

"I don't know how to tell you..." he trailed off, pressing his lips together like he was fighting back more tears.

"I... I took too much..."

He trailed off again for a moment, but picked it up a second later.

"It started with the sleeping medication," he finally said with tears in his eyes. "I just wanted to sleep. I was so tired. I just wanted to sleep, but the dreams got worse. I didn't mean for it to get worse."

Evaline knew what he was saying, but her heart sunk even lower at the mention of sleeping medication. She didn't even know he had any medication. It felt like he was suffering for no reason, and it pained her so much to hear him admit that he succumbed to taking a bigger dosage.

He said it "started" with the sleep medication. That meant it escalated.

"James," Evaline began, refusing to be the one who sounded to be in pain. She wanted to be there for him.

"Can I stay with you for the week?" she asked.

She watched as James's face scrunched up again, fighting back more tears, but this time he didn't hide his face. He nodded with his eyes closed as tears kept coming, and his mouth quivered in a small frown.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice cracking. "I didn't want to hurt you again. I'm sorry I did it again."

It was hard to keep her gaze on him, but she persisted.

"You didn't hurt me," Evaline said, and it was the truth. "You have nothing to apologize for. It's okay. We're okay."

"Ev-Evaline," James said as his breath shook, and he kept crying with his eyes closed. "I tried to overdose last night. It didn't work."

She was right. He didn't hurt her.

He hurt himself, and that hurt her.

Evaline felt like she failed as a friend. Again. She could go back again and again and save him if something went wrong... but she couldn't do anything if she was away, and he hurt himself. She wouldn't have been able to save him if he had overdosed and it didn't fail.

And she knew she'd have forever blamed herself if that happened.

But this wasn't about her. This was about him.

Evaline had to close her eyes for a moment as she felt a pang of deep sadness and pain behind her eyes. Her whole body ached.

"I'm happy you're here," she whispered.

"The-the thing is," James said quietly as he sniffed back snot. He hugged himself and leaned forward, and his voice raised in pitch. "I don't know if I am."

The words seemed to sit heavily in the air between them, and when it fully sunk in, it felt like small daggers piercing across her skin. She felt numb, empty, and she stared ahead towards the ground, unable to stop her own silent tears from coming down.

She told herself she'd save him and protect him. She had failed him.

"I want to be happy," James cried as he curled into a ball again. "I want to want to be happy. I wish I knew how. I wish I knew how."

Evaline didn't want to ruin this vulnerable moment with her inexpressive words. She didn't have the answers he was seeking for, and she wished she knew how to make this better. She wished she knew how to fix this.

Things were different now. Her future already felt different.

She wasn't going to leave him. Not anymore.

James continued to cry for some time, but eventually his breathing became more erratic, and it almost sounded like he was wheezing.

"I need water," he rasped, barely audible.

Evaline didn't hesitate to get up on her feet and head towards the stump, grabbing the canteen that she had filled with water already. Before she turned around, she wiped her face of the tears she had shed so James wouldn't worry. She walked back and sat next to him again, extendkng the canteen out for him to take.

James sat up straight and eagerly took the canteen from her hands, immediately putting it to his lips and drinking like he hadn't had water for far too long.

Maybe he hadn't.

"You can drink all of it," she assured. "Are you also hungry?"

James pulled the canteen away from his mouth with a shaky sigh and looked at her with still-bleary eyes.

"I haven't eaten in..." he trailed off, looking like he couldn't figure out how long it had been. "But I don't - haven't. Haven't been hungry."

"That's okay," Evaline said, even though it wasn't okay.

It wasn't okay that he was - whether intentionally or not - starving himself of food and water. But he didn't need a scolding right now.

"I... made you some food you might like," she continued on, looking over at the stump. "If you want to eat. Or, try to eat."

James looked over at the stump, sniffing loudly.

"What did you make?" he asked hoarsely.

"I tried to make your favorite foods," she replied. "I'm not sure how it turned out, but..."

James stared at the stump for a moment before she saw another tear streak down his cheek.

"Sorry," he whispered. "I keep-- of all the things to cry about today."

His mouth broke into a smile, even though it was a tearful one. He wiped his face and rubbed his eyes, and the smile faded slowly. But the smile seemed real.

Evaline lingered her gaze on him for a moment before she got back up on her feet and then extended a hand out to him.

"Come on," she said, trying to offer a small smile herself. "Maybe you'll see the food and get hungry."

James looked up at her and smiled just a little as he took her hand and got to his feet.

"Okay," he said quietly.

This wasn't at all how she expected the evening to go.

But maybe it was a good thing it went this way. She knew, now, that she shouldn't -- didn't want to leave James. Not when he was in this state.

She offered another small smile and then walked to the stump to sit down, motioning for him to sit on the other side.

It almost felt wrong to have this moment now, but she knew he needed a healthy distraction. She only hoped this was enough.

After he sat down, Evaline lifted the lid of the pan to reveal an attempt of lasagna. Except, she had no reference point to even know if this was good. She didn't even try it since her stomach couldn't handle dairy.

"No idea if this is even good," she said as she set the lid down beside them and slid a folded napkin with silverware towards him. "But I hope it's at least decent."

James looked at the dish with an expression that seemed almost disproportionately soft and tender when simply looking at food - and after crying as much as he had. But another small smile grew on his face and he looked up at her.

He didn't say anything, but his eyes said "thank you."

And she didn't need to hear it. This was enough.

"Eat," she said to him with a swish of her fingers. "However much you can stomach. It's for you."

James hesitantly lifted his knife and cut into it.

"I think I'll start small," he said quietly. "But I'll try."

"That's okay," she said as she looked out towards the waterfall, not wanting to add pressure by her state or by conversation. "Take your time. I don't mind."

"Did you bring anything for yourself?" James asked. "To eat?"

"Oh. Well..." She glanced down at the basket on the ground, untouched and covered. "I ate before this. To make sure the food tasted decent. So don't worry about me."

James glanced up at her but returned his eyes to the lasagna he was was scooping onto his fork.

"I would offer to share," he said softly. "But... I know you can't eat it."

Evaline smiled a little from the thoughtfulness, but then shook her head. "It's fine," she said. "I made it for you. I don't mind."

"If you want to try a little, just to see how it turned out for yourself," James offered. "Just let me know."

He then lifted the forkful of lasagna and took the first bite. His expression softened again, and he looked over at her with big, watery eyes as he chewed.

"I hope that means it's good," Evaline said, but she couldn't help but smile a little watching his pleading face with puffy cheeks as he took a big mouthful of food.

James nodded earnestly as he kept chewing.

"I fugot how mush I wuved cheebs," he said through his mouthful of food.

Evaline let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. "You can tell me all about it when you're done eating," she said.

James was almost done chewing but he nodded and seemed to be in agreement. She hoped that maybe that meant he had a little bit of his appetite back, because he kept eating and drinking water.

Originally, Evaline was going to use this time to go through a spiel she had in her mind, but that was all thrown out the window when James broke down and her priorities changed. She suddenly found herself regretting that she didn't bring food for herself so that she wasn't just awkwardly staring at him.

Evaline sat comfortably on the ground with a knee up, reaching in her pack again to pull out the harmonica.

"I got this a few weeks ago," she said, inspecting it in her hands. "I had a bit of fun transposing some songs. I'm not an expert, though, and you're better than me. But..."

She knew he was eating, and she didn't want to disturb that, so she didn't wait for him to respond as she pulled the harmonica up to her lips and spent the next few minutes playing some simple harmonies and melodies. Nothing too intricate. And nothing too sad, either. If she was going to fill the silence with music, she'd rather it be filled with an upbeat song.

After some minutes had passed, she pulled the harmonica away and first looked down at his food, noting that he had eaten about a quarter of the pan so far. She then looked up at him and offered the harmonica to him.

"This is for you too," she said with a small smile.

James paused in his eating, chewing the rest of his bite quickly and swallowing before he took the harmonica and turned it in his hands.

He looked up at Evaline with another small smile. It seemed a little sad, but still grateful.

"Thank you, Evaline," he said. He looked back down at the harmonica. "It's... been a while. Since I've played."

"I hope you'd let me listen to your first songs, then," she said, fully sincere.

"I'm probably very rusty," James said. "But... sure. If you don't mind hearing a lot of mistakes first."

"Not every song is perfect," Evaline countered. "Songs wouldn't be special if they were all perfect and flawless."

James huffed through his nose.

"I guess so," he said, setting the harmonica down by his plate as he grabbed the canteen and drank what looked to be the last of the water.

While he did that, Evaline slid the basket towards him. "I got you a few more things," she said. "Nothing as big as the harmonica, but it's something."

She slid the basket in front of him so that he'd be able to open it himself.

"Go ahead," she said. "Peel back the cloth."

James glanced up at her and then gingerly grabbed the edge of the cloth and pulled it away, revealing a loose flower crown made out of various white, yellow, orange, and red flowers. She made sure to include daisies and dandelions, their two favorite flowers.

"It's tradition, isn't it?" Evaline said with a nervous smile. "To wear a flower crown on your birthday?"

James slowly lifted the crown up out of the basket, looking it over with a tiny smile and eyes that were tearing up again.

"It's perfect," he said softly.

"I'm glad you think so," she said, a bit relieved.

James then turned to face her with a tearful smile and put the flower crown on his head, briefly giving a flourish with his hands as if to say "ta-da."

Evaline gazed at the flower crown on his head, and she was pleased with how it looked on him. She thought that the colors would be too warm, but it suited him.

"It looks good," she commented, then realized that she was complimenting herself. "You look good," she corrected herself, then bit back a groan. "I mean, it looks good on you. That's what I meant."

James's small smile faded naturally, and he looked up, even though it didn't help him see himself at all. His eyes traveled across the sky and landed on the waterfall beside them.

"I know this is about to sound sad," he said softly. "But this is probably the best birthday I've had in years."

It wasn't sad. She felt the same when she was in Nye.

"I'm glad I can return the favor," she said with an empathetic smile. "Even if it took five years."

James stared at the waterfall for a moment before he looked back at her, briefly meeting her eyes before he looked down at the river.

"Thank you," he said softly. "For everything."

Evaline paused for a moment to observe him. Not to pick him apart, but just to note.

Seeing James vulnerable put him in a new light. She was able to better appreciate the small details she missed before: the way his new haircut draped over his ear, the shadows of the flower crown that fell over his face, the sun's glow on his skin, the sadness in his eyes that was no longer hidden behind a wall.

"That's not everything yet," she said after a few passing seconds, then gestured down to the basket again. "There's one more item."

James glanced up at her curiously and then peeked back inside the basket, pulling the last sheet of cloth out of the way.

They were a pack of individually wrapped stickers bars, neatly organized in a row for him.

She watched as James's eyes went wide.

"What?" he whispered in surprise. And then a: "No," of disbelief.

It then dawned on her that he may have thought this was fake. That his memories of Nye was mixing in with reality.

"You told me they were your favorite food," she quickly said. "But it's more of a snack, so I made both. I'm sure the bars are not the exact same as what you're used to. I -- I don't know the ratio of the recipe. But I hope it's up to your standards."

James let out a small, sad sounding laugh, and he pulled one of the bars out, peeling away the wrapper.

"It's not quite the same," he said, almost sounding relieved. "But it looks amazing."

"I'm glad you think so," she said with a small smile, then paused. "Happy birthday, James."

James stared at the stickers bar for just a little longer before he looked back up at her and met her eyes. He smiled, and it was sad, but it seemed like a part of him had to be happy too, because she could see his dimples, and his eyes squinted more like they would with a real smile.

"Thank you, Evaline," he said again, and then looked back down.

"Of course," she said, lingering her gaze on him. It made her heart ache in a good way to see him smile again. "And I meant it when I asked if I could stay with you for the week. If you'll have me."

James's smile had faded already, and he met her eyes with something akin to worry, but it was hard to tell.

"You can stay," he said quietly and steadily. "But... I don't know how it will go. I... haven't been sleeping."

"I know," Evaline said calmly. "I want to help." She paused. "We can sleep in shifts again, if you'd like. I can stay by your side while you try to sleep. And I'll help you with reality checks if you need them. With a bit of planning, I can help train you to know whether you're in a dream or not, even by asking me."

James nodded, but this time his gaze wasn't distant. It seemed like he was listening and taking it all in, but she could see he was starting to grip the stickers bar a little tighter. He was starting to squish it.

"I don't know if I'll be able to sleep or dream without... medication," he said quietly, and she could hear the underlying shame in his voice.

"Then I'll be patient," Evaline replied, feeling a stubborn tightness in her chest that she hadn't felt in a while. "I'll do whatever it takes to help you naturally get some sleep. I can wait."

James flicked his eyes from her to the stickers bar, which he realized he was crushing in his hand. He awkwardly put it back in the basket.

"I just... wanted you to know that. I don't know if I've slept more than six hours this whole week, and I feel like I'm going just a little... crazy."

Evaline thought back to his farm. She had noticed that the fields were recently harvested, and he must have had a lot of time on his hands now. A lot of time not spent sleeping.

"I know a thing or two about crazy," she said with a faint lighthearted smile. "It's okay. Worst case, you can't sleep, and you're exhausted for the remainder of the day."

James laughed, just barely.

"I'm already exhausted," he said quietly.

"Then I don't mind just sitting next to you, if that's all you have the energy to do," she said.

"You wouldn't get bored?" he asked.

"No," Evaline said firmly, and she meant it. "Not with you."

James looked back up at her briefly with a hint of the pleading expression she'd seen earlier.

"Maybe I'll just have to tell you a bunch of sleep-deprived stories, then," he said quietly. "Or something like that."

"I wouldn't mind that," Evaline said earnestly. "And if you're too tired to say stories, I'd be happy to fill my time drawing more sketches to put on your wall."

A look of panic suddenly crossed over James's face, and he froze for a moment, staring out into the waterfall.

"The note," he said in a hushed whisper. "I hid your picture with the note. I--I was-- it was a bad bout of paranoia. But I think there's a new verse to the note. I think. Unless I imagined it."

There was a lot to unpack here. His panic that led him to hide the sketch she had given him, his paranoia, and more importantly -- a new verse.

Was it bad that she felt a bit sad that there was already a second verse? She knew it wasn't her right to tell him what to do, but he wasn't ready to go back yet. Not with the dangers of Nye... not yet.

"What does it say?" she asked softly.

James's expression only looked more distressed.

"It... it was about me drowning," he said, but started talking fast. "But like I said, I don't know if there really is a new verse. Maybe it was a dream. I could've dreamed that up. Maybe there's nothing at all and the note didn't tell me to go..."

He trailed off.

"I must be wrong," he said quickly. "I--I have to be."

"Let's check together when we get back to your house," Evaline quickly cut in with a calm voice when she sensed that he was panicking. "Okay? We'll read it together."

James looked at her and took in a slow, deep breath.

"Okay," he said quietly.

"I'll be with you for the remainder of the week," Evaline reminded him.

But she knew now it wasn't just the week. She hadn't extended the invitation out to him yet, because she didn't want to overwhelm him. One thing at a time. They had time.

"And past that, too," she added. "You don't have to do this alone anymore. The note doesn't say that this involves both of us again, but I'm still happy to be here for you. I want to be here for you."

James looked like he was taking in measured, steady breaths, and he nodded again.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Of course," Evaline said quietly. "That's what friends are for."

The words tasted sour in her mouth. Guilt began to seep into her open skin from the cold air as the setting sun seemed to hide from view.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, but she meant every word. "I'm sorry for saying we couldn't even be friends. I didn't mean it. I was just..."

Evaline closed her eyes for a moment, letting out a quick, deep sigh.

"You are my friend, James, and you always will be," she said, prying the thought out herself. "Even if I argue. Even if you don't think we are. Even if it's been five years, and even if we're apart. That doesn't change."

She watched as James's expression tensed again, around the edges of his mouth into a small pout of a frown. His eyebrows arched together, and his eyes flicked to her and then away again, down to his lap.

"You will always be my friend too," he said softly.

Evaline was glad he agreed, but like he said, they were just words. This was something she had to prove. Something she hadn't been doing for over a month, which probably aided his downward spiral.

"I'm glad you agree," she voiced out loud, and decided to leave it at that.

Their conversation lulled to a stop, and James was still for a moment before he quietly reached out and picked up his harmonica again, looking it over.

Evaline took a deep breath, looking back over the waterfall.

"We can stay here as long as you'd like," she said. "I'm not in any rush. We're not in any rush."

James nodded slightly and turned to look out at the setting sun and the waterfall. He was quiet for a second before speaking.

"It is a nice view," he commented softly. "I never really stopped by this spot at this hour."

"I asked the guards where the closest waterfall was," she said, still looking over the water. "I was surprised there was one so close. I figured you'd enjoy it at sunset."

"You were right."

"And we can come back tomorrow, or the day after, or any day after," she continued. "Or we can pick a different spot each day."

"That would be nice," he said. "I've gotten used to the view from my porch. It would be a good change of pace."

Evaline paused for a moment. "I don't know of too many places near Terra," she said. "But we can explore it together."

"Yeah," he said quietly. "We can discover them together."

She looked at how the sun left golden rays along the running water, and how the rocks glistened just above the ground when the water splashed over it. A comfortable silence passed, and Evaline thought it was peaceful. Even when she knew that all of this happened stemmed from on a heavy conversation that was hard to swallow.

Maybe she couldn't help him find happiness. But she could at least help him find peace.

"Are you still hungry?" she asked once the silence began to feel like it dragged on, and she turned her attention back towards James, noting how he was also gazing out into the sunset, but with a wistful look that looked more restful, even through his tired eyes.

James hummed, and slowly turned to look down at the lasagna.

"It was really good, by the way," he said. "I can't really remember how it used to taste, but I like your version."

"I'm glad to hear that," she said with a small smile. "Considering how hard it was for me to find cheese, and a recipe for this."

"I don't know if I've ever been so happy to have cheese," James said. He didn't quite smile, but his expression softened.

Evaline glanced down at some of the cheese baked on top. There was still a good amount left, but she could wrap it up and he could eat it tomorrow.

"Cheese has always been a weird concept to me," she thought out loud. "Isn't it odd to eat a food that contains milk from a cow?"

James pursed his lips slightly in thought, but then shrugged. He looked up at her.

"But consider this: it tastes good." That was his only argument.

"I just don't understand why it's only cow's cheese that's acceptable," Evaline continued, glossing over his argument over deliciousness.

"There are other cheeses," James commented. "Goat cheese."

"Wouldn't human cheese make the most sense?" she said. "Since we're human?"

James squinted slightly with what sounded like a disturbed hum, and his mouth pursed into a frown of disgust.

"I'm not going to eat human cheese," he said.

"I'm sure that's also what the cows say when you eat their cheese," she half-mumbled.

"I am beyond being influenced by the thoughts of a cow," James said back.

"But you are being influenced by a small chicken," Evaline shot back with a hint of a smirk.

James turned his head to the side and closed his eyes, looking indignant.

"Sleepy has earned my respect," he said defensively, though it was clear he was being playful.

"I see," Evaline drew out. "So I'll have to get you a calf for you to respect a cow."

James looked back at her with narrowed eyes and a half-smirk.

"I'm still going to eat Sleepy's eggs when she gets old enough to lay them," he said.

"That's different," Evaline said as she returned the half-smirk. "Unlike milk, it's not baby food."

"It's man food," James said, looking like he was trying not to laugh as he dug his fork back into the lasagna and took another bite.

Evaline narrowed her eyes at him with a creeping smile, then shook her head and huffed out a breath of air in amusement.

"Eggs are a man's food," she mused. "There's a joke in there somewhere."

James looked up at her with his cheeks full, but his lips looked like they were fighting against a smile, and he shook his head as he swallowed.

"Oh, gods, please don't make it," he said with a small laugh in his voice.

"You've probably heard more jokes about that than jokes about time, haven't you?" Evaline said with a teasing smile.

"Mostly from Mel and Hendrik," James said. "But yes."

She hummed. "Makes sense," she said. "They both share similar humor."

"I've noticed," James said, reaching to grab another bite of lasagna.

Evaline slightly creased her brows together, not out of frustration, but because a thought just occured to her.

"Do you think you naturally gravitate towards people with certain styles of humor?" she randomly asked.

James looked at her, again with his mouth full. He looked to the side, like he was thinking, and she waited for him to finish chewing so he could answer.

"I... I don't know if I gravitate towards them. I feel like they gravitate towards me," he mused.

"That's... hm."

She let that thought sit for a moment, not immediately talking through her thoughts.

"Why do you ask?" he replied.

Evaline shifted her attention back towards James, sighing. "I guess I didn't really care to analyze it too deeply until now," she said. "But I feel the same. That they naturally gravitate towards me as well."

"At least they don't call you baby man," James said with a shrug. "Though... having known them much longer than I have, I'm sure you've had your fair share of teasing."

"Yeah," she said, pausing for a moment as she reflected upon when she first met Mel and Hendrik. "Mel didn't really tease me in that way. But Hendrik kept calling me a stickler behind my back." She paused again. "Because I guess I was mean. And was skinny. Like a stick. I have no clue."

"That's not very kind," James commented quietly.

Evaline shrugged. "I met him while we were in the rebellion. Different atmosphere. That was probably one of the nicer nicknames I've heard."

"Oh," James said softly.

"Things are different now, though," Evaline quickly added. "We're... friends, I guess."

"I'm glad to hear that," James said with a small nod. "I've been called..."

He paused, and sighed, shaking his head.

"A lot of things."

"I assume mostly aliases?" she asked.

"Not just aliases," he said. "I meant... insults. That sort of thing."

Evaline slowly nodded, remembering that James didn't have as thick of skin as she did. It must have hurt him to be called various insults.

"It doesn't really bother me anymore," he said before she could reply, looking down at his food. "I got used to it."

Evaline picked up one of the wildflowers in the small vase and started to touch its petals, shifting her focus down on it.

"You deserve respect," she said. "I don't know what I did to warrant the respect others give me in the council, but I can persuade the others to stop teasing you with insults."

"You don't have to do that," James said quietly. "It... it doesn't hurt me, really. It's just annoying sometimes. But that's a given with any nickname."

Evaline glanced up at him. "I understand that," she said. "You wouldn't get any nicknames from me."

James smiled slightly, poking at his food with his fork.

"I would trust you not to call me anything demeaning or uncomfortable," he said. "But I appreciate it."

She smiled at him, then looked back at the flower in her hands so that she'd let him eat in peace for a bit.

But also so she could sift through her thoughts. Evaline may not have a nickname for James, but James had a nickname for her. One she didn't really remember telling him about. Aside... from when they first met.

She decided to just spill it out. It has been swirling in her head for too long.

"I've noticed that you've called me Eve," she said, looking up to meet his eyes. "I'm surprised you still associate me with that name."

James stared at her for a solid second, but then looked down.

"I can call you Evaline," he said. "I--"

"It's okay," she interrupted. "Really. I don't mind. I just..." She found herself looking back over the water, finding it hard to keep her gaze on his face. "I haven't gone by that name since we first met. It's just a little strange, is all."

"If it's weird for you, then I won't use it," James said.

"It's not really weird," she corrected. "I guess... it's more... I don't know. Nostalgic."

James was quiet for a moment.

"I can understand that," he said softly.

"It's not that I dislike it, or not like the nickname, if you can even call it that," Evaline continued on, not wanting a silence to pass between them. "I think I just... I think the name just makes me feel like a different person. A... better person, I suppose. Someone I once was before, but not who I am now. I'm sure you could understand that since you have several aliases."

James nodded.

"More than you know," he said quietly.

"Yeah," Evaline agreed, and took a sharp breath in. "I've never bothered trying to come up with a new name. So I guess back then -- when I first met you -- I kind of just panicked and said the first name that came to mind."

"It's a good nickname, though," James said gently. "I mean, I like it. Even if it doesn't make much phonetic sense with your name."

Evaline hesitated and looked up at him, offering a small thankful smile, but it was hard to be sincere since it wasn't a nickname she came up with herself.

"I suppose it's fitting," she said. "Considering I can go back to the eve of an event."

James smiled back, and it almost felt like he understood from the way he looked at her.

"Yeah," he said.

"...And shorter," she added. "Ev is shorter, but I hate that nickname."

James closed his eyes for a moment and put his hands to his temples.

"I have already forgotten it," he said. "Never to be used."

"Good," Evaline said with a small smile. "Glad you can easily forget things."

It was a tasteless joke that she immediately regretted saying, so she cleared her throat and continued to talk.

"But, um, I don't -- you can call me whatever. Like you said, I trust you to not to call me anything demeaning or uncomfortable."

"I'm glad it's mutual," James said with a slight smile.

Evaline took a deep breath in and out. "Yeah," she said. "Anyways. I'll let you finish eating now."

"Actually," James said. "I think... I should stop. For now. I'm not quite queasy, but... I think I should, um... pace myself."

"Oh, yes, of course," Evaline said quickly, already moving to place the lid back on. "I wouldn't want you to feel sick. Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm okay right now," he said. "I just... still feel a little, um. Off."

Evaline started to wrap the pan back in the container she brought it in, thinking of what to do next. If James was feeling queasy or off, then he would feel worse if she suggested to go back on the bike.

"Do you want to lay down for a few minutes?" she asked. "Maybe that would help."

James looked at her, and then at the sun, which was dipping below the horizon. It was going to be dark soon.

"If you're still not in a hurry..." he said.

"I'm not," she assured. "I'm staying with you for the next week. I'm in no hurry at all."

"It might be helpful, then," James admitted, his voice getting quieter.

"We can always walk back along the gate, even if it gets dark," Evaline suggested. "Take your time."

"Okay," James said softly. He lifted up the harmonica - he was still holding it in one hand - and looked at it, then her, then the harmonica again.

"Would you mind if I... tried to play? First?" he asked.

Evaline let a soft smile wash upon her face as she held his gaze. "I'd like that," she said.

James nodded, and after a brief moment of hesitation, brought the harmonica to his lips. It looked like he took in a deep breath before he started playing.



With her full attention on him, Evaline watched James play the song, looking deeply engrossed and focused with his eyes closed, like he was trying to recall a specific melody. She didn't mean to stare, but it wasn't like he noticed anyways.

It was nice to hear him play again.

When he finished, Evaline flicked her eyes between him and the stump so it didn't look like she was idly staring at him, but she smiled and quietly clapped.

"I liked the melody," she said. "If this is you rusty... I look forward to hear you at your peak."

James looked lost in thought for just a moment, but when she started clapping, he looked over to her with a small smile.

"Thanks," he said. "It feels good. To play again."

"You should play more often, then," she suggested. "I like listening to you."

James smiled a little wider, but looked down into his lap, still with a sad and tired look to his eyes.

"I'll see if I can learn some new songs," he said.

"But not now," she cut in. "Now, you should lie down and rest."

James nodded a little and slipped the harmonica in his pocket.

"Do you want me to help you clean up?" he asked.

"I've got it, don't worry," Evaline said. "I'll sit with you when I finish."

James nodded again, and he glanced back at where the sun used to be. Now the sky was slowly turning a deep blue. He scooted in front of the stump and laid down on his back, looking up at the sky.

Evaline, meanwhile, silently went to work to put everything away. She covered the pan and wrapped it up, stacking it in the basket with the stickers bars, along with the small tablecloth and the flowers. After she folded and put everything away, she took out her canteen and walked up along the river, filling it up with water. Luckily, the bottle had a filter on it already.

When she finished, she set the canteen beside James in case he was thirsty again, and then sat beside him, noting how he was still gazing up at the sky. After another brief silence, she decided to lay down too.

They both laid there silently for minutes, watching as the sky turned from a deeper blue to an empty black. As soon as the stars started coming into view, Evaline decided to finally break the silence.

"Are you cold?" she asked.

"A little," he said. "But not unbearably so."

"I would've brought some blankets with us if I'd have known we'd stay here this long," she thought out loud. "But I can make a fire if you'd like."

"It's okay," James said. "I'm alright. I like it like this."

Evaline let another small silence pass as she kept her eyes on the stars. "Have you ever seen a meteor shower?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," James said. "I don't think so."

"It's when meteors touch the atmosphere, and it looks like shooting stars across the sky," she said. "There's one that lasts this whole month. Maybe we will see one."

"Does it come through the atmosphere?" James asked. "Or do you only see it pass by?"

"Just pass by," she clarified. "Nothing dangerous. It's only a nice sight to see."

James hummed.

"My parents told me stories of meteors that would touch ground during the calamity," he said. "I always thought it sounded terrifying... I never considered that it could be beautiful as well."

Evaline paused for a moment, absorbing the thought. "I suppose there's beauty in all nature, even if it's dangerous or scary to us," she said. "Time keeps ticking even through a calamity. And like a fire ravaging a forest, new trees and flowers would grow, stronger and healthier than before."

"Life keeps going on," James added softly.

"It does," she agreed. "I don't think the planet cares how we choose to live our life, because it will always outlive us. But I think just knowing that alone is enough freedom for you to choose how you want to live."

"And more than enough reason to respect the planet," he mused.

"Yeah. Like not eating cow cheese," Evaline dead-panned.

"Cows are not a planet," James dead-panned back.

"Thanks," Evaline said with a small smile, noting how his comeback was not as witty as they usually were. He must have been too tired to think of anything else.

Another small silence passed.

"Did you ever find out more about the calamity?" she asked.

"Find out... more?" he asked.

"Information," she clarified. "Aside from the natural disasters that happened a long time ago, and that mages were to blame for it."

"Oh," he said. "I don't think the mages were to blame. I never have."

"Do you think it happened randomly, then?" she asked. "Without real reason?"

"I don't know," he said quietly. "I don't know if there has to be a reason. Sometimes things just happen."

Evaline found her gaze lingering at the biggest star in the sky. The one that they previously pointed out, theorizing whether it was Nye or not.

"Yeah," she agreed. "The planet can be cruel sometimes."

"I guess Nye and Earth have that in common," James mused.

"There's actually quite a bit our worlds have in common," she said. "But that is a good summary."

"I'm good at summarizing," James said.

"That you are," Evaline replied, stealing a phrase she heard him use several times now.

She thought she saw slight movement in the corner of her eye, so she pried her gaze away and turned her head slightly towards James so she could see him. His eyes were closed, and he was smiling, just a little.

Even though he couldn't see her, she smiled back and then looked up at the sky again.

And then she saw it. Just barely. A meteor passing by.

"There!" she said too loudly since she knew that he wasn't even looking.

James's eyes shot open, and he stared up, and then whipped around to look at her.

"What's wrong?" he said hurriedly.

"Nothing," she said with a smile and a little laugh, noting how the sky was back to its usual lull of stars. She turned to face him again. "You just missed the meteor."

James looked relieved, and then confused, and then she wasn't really sure what his face was communicating as he looked up at the sky.

"Oh," he said softly.

She wasn't sure she wanted to pry this out of him.

"I guess this means you missed your chance of wishing upon a star," she mused.

"Is that... a thing?" he asked, still looking up at the sky. He was half-sitting up now, propping himself up with his elbows.

"Yeah," Evaline said, not having moved. "It usually is."

James stared up at the sky, and slowly laid back down.

"Did you make a wish?" he asked.

Evaline paused for a moment, and then returned her gaze up at the sky, her eyes drifting to the patch of the night where she saw the meteor whiz by for only a fraction of a second.

I wish for James to find happiness.

"I have now," she said.

"Ah," was all James said in reply.

And they didn't see another meteor for the rest of the night.

Eventually, it got too cold to stay out, but Evaline wanted James to be the one who dictated when he was ready to go. Fortunately, he did voice that he was ready to go, so they both readied themselves to their feet and stumbled a bit in the dark path, basket in hand. the moon was barely out, so it was a bit hard to see directly in front of them. Evaline led the way and made sure that James was following close behind since she knew he couldn't see as well.

When they reached the bike, she secured the basket on the back and then toyed with the idea of walking back instead of riding back.

"We can take ride back on my bike, and it'd be faster," she said. "Or we can walk if you're not feeling up to it. Which do you prefer?"

"Let's take the bike," he said.

"Alright," she said as she got it ready. "I'll ride a little slower anyways since it's dark."

Before riding off, Evaline made sure that he and the basket were secured. She was careful to ride along the road, squinting in the dark until they made it to Terra's fence line, which she road along until they made it through the gate. From there, it was the familiar route back to his farm.

Still on the bike, she stopped in front of his cottage, leaning her foot on the ground as she looked behind her shoulder. She couldn't help but notice that he was leaning on her more heavily than the simple requirement of wrapping his arms around her waist to hold on. It was likely from exhaustion.

"You okay?" she asked.

"It's been a long..." he paused. "Week."

Evaline parked the bike and turned it off. She wanted to park it in the shed, but she wanted to take care of James first. She didn't quite hop off since he was still leaning against her.

"Do you need help getting to your cottage?" she asked.

James was quiet for a moment.

"Maybe," he whispered, sounding like he was ashamed to say it.

There was nothing to be ashamed of needing help, but she decided to save the lesson for later.

With ease, Evaline kicked the kickstands from her seat and then swung one leg around, careful to keep James balanced.

"I have you," she said. "Can I put my arm across your back to steady you?"

James nodded. "Mm."

She dipped her arm under his, first holding on to his shoulder to keep him steady. "Can you swing your other leg around for me?" she asked.

James nodded again and did so, but she could feel his movements were far more sloppy than normal.

"I have you," Evaline repeated again, this time with more control since she was able to drape her arm across his back. "Can you put your arm around my shoulder too? We're going to hop off the bike and walk."

James did so without comment, and Evaline started to led him down, taking a gentle step on the ground while lightly pulling him along. He seemed to lag behind, and his footsteps were heavy, but he was okay with support. She continued to take slow steps with him to the cabin.

"We're going to go up the steps," she warned. "Watch your feet. We'll take one at a time."

James didn't comment again, but he seemed to understand as she exaggerated her step, bringing him along with her, and telling him when she was ready to take another step. This went on a couple times until they reached the top, and she walked him to the door.

Luckily, he didn't lock it. She wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing, but it was convenient for them right now. She pulled the door open and began to lead him inside.

"We're inside your house now," she said. "I'm going to set you on your bed. Okay?"

James was quiet for a moment before murmuring a yes, but she was already walking him towards the bed. She only had enough time to push away the blankets of his unmade bed before she leaned over and sat him down. James swayed, and it looked like he was about to flop back without restraint, so she decided to steady him again, letting him fall to the bed softly instead.

"Better?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I feel like something sapped all of the energy out of me."

It sounded like he tried to laugh, but was too tired to even do that, and it only came out as a brief, weak hum in the back of his throat.

Evaline nodded with understanding, starting to take off his shoes for him.

"You're tired," she said. "And you deserve rest. Can you try to rest? For me?"

James squinted up at her like he was trying to meet her eyes, but couldn't quite make out her features clearly.

"For you," he echoed.

"Thank you," Evaline said with a small, sad smile as she set one shoe on the ground before starting to untie his second one. "I'll get you water in a moment. After that, I'm going to put the bike in the shed and make sure Elliot is okay. I'll be sit by you afterwards. Okay?"

James closed his eyes.

"Okay," he said quietly. "But... give Elliot a kiss for me. I always... give him one between the eyes. Before I go to sleep."

Evaline set his other shoe down and then lifted the bunched up blanket, draping it across his legs and chest.

"I can do that," she said, still with the small smile.

Evaline lingered her gaze on him for a few more moments, but James didn't say anything else, and his eyes were already closed. If she didn't know any better, she'd have thought he was asleep. But she knew better.

Evaline moved to first light up a few candles for her visibility. Luckily, James kept the matches on the shelf, and she had a dumb thought that the moth would be back to scare her, and she'd make another noise and accidentally cause alarm. Luckily, it was just that: a dumb thought.

After lighting a few candles, she walked over to pick up the stool, carefully picking it up and then quietly setting it beside the bed next to him. Afterwards, she walked to the kitchen to fill up a glass of water from his still-full pitcher, setting it on the stool for now.

"You don't need to say anything," she told him. "But there's water on the stool next to you if you're thirsty. I'll be right back."

Evaline gave him another long glance, but then left the cottage, hurrying down the steps towards her bike so she could walk it to the shed. The basket was still secured there, but she planned on bringing it inside.

When she reached the shed, she parked the bike along the inner wall and then walked over to Elliot's stall. Luckily, she didn't seem to be disturbing his sleep since he looked to be happily bobbing her head when she approached. She smiled and reached out her hand, which he set his snout against for a second, but then leaned his face in to instead lean his face against hers.

"It's nice to see you too," she said with a small laugh as she decided now was the time to give him the small kiss between his eyes.

It felt strange to be giving Elliot a goodbye kiss. She hadn't ever given him one when she was in Nye, and she wasn't as close to him now as she was back then.

She would like to change that now, though.

Evaline brushed his mane back as she spent another moment petting him and giving him affection. He seemed to calm down a bit when he seemed satisfied by her presence again, and eventually Evaline pulled away. Not before making sure his trough had water and he had plenty of hay, though. But it seemed that James already did that before they left.

After giving Elliot one more scratch behind his ear, she headed back towards her bike to pick up the basket, and then walked back towards the cabin. When she returned, she immediately announced her entrance to avoid startling James.

"I'm back," she said, closing the door behind him. "No need to say anything. I just wanted you know it's me."

She set the basket on the table and put away the items, and then she decided to pull a few items out of his shelf. The mirror she gave him, and his journal. Both were used for reality checks in case he needed them.

Evaline noticed that he drank some of the water, but not a lot. She decided to set it aside for now as she pulled the stool at the foot of his bed and sat down, setting the two items in front of her.

James looked asleep, but he was still probably only trying to sleep. She didn't know for sure, though. Still, it didn't hurt to explain, in case he was awake.

"I've brought your journal and set it down next to your feet in case you need it," she said. "And also your mirror. It's another sure way to see if you're dreaming or not since reflections aren't accurately portrayed in dreams. It's not my favorite reality check since it can be scary at times, so check the pocket watch first. It should be in your pocket."

She paused.

"But I'll stay here with you in case you need me."

She paused again, watching his peaceful face in the dark as a small silence passed.

"Good night, James."

James could feel the warmth of the sun's rays on him. He'd been cold when he went to sleep, but now he was just a little too warm, and he was starting to feel sweaty under the covers. He slowly peeled his eyes open, looking up at his cottage ceiling.

Had he really slept all night? He wondered if he didn't need sleeping medication after all. But he had also been exceptionally exhausted, so that was likely the major contributing factor.

He did feel a pang of worry, though, as he realized that meant Evaline might've not gotten a chance to sleep, since she'd told him they would be sleeping in shifts.

Slowly, he tried to shift his head to the side, to see where she was, but it felt difficult to accomplish. Somehow, despite having slept through a whole night, he still felt too exhausted to even move. All of his muscles felt strained and weak. He worried that it might have been a still-lasting side-effect from the dramamine.

"Eve," he called out softly. It took so much effort to speak. He felt like he could close his eyes again, and be pulled right back to sleep.

"Hi," she said across the room, sounding fully awake. "You're finally up. I've been waiting for you."

"I'm sorry I... slept so long," he said, forcing the words out of his sluggish mouth.

"That's okay," she said. "I didn't need to sleep anyways. You're fine."

The way she dismissed it worried him. He focused all of his effort on turning his head so he could see her. It ended up taking what felt like an agonizingly long time before he could manage to do so, but when he looked across the room, he saw her.

She was sitting on the couch, with her Nye journal, looking between him and the paper as her pencil quickly moved across the page. She was sketching him sleeping, and she didn't seem to mind that he noticed. He felt an odd sense of worry spring up, but it seemed to quickly be quelled by an even more powerful force. A strange reassurance. A drowsiness.

"How long have you been sitting there?" he asked.

Evaline hummed for a moment, visibly distracted as she continued to sketch. "All night," she answered. "I like to draw you sleeping. You look so peaceful."

James wasn't sure how he felt about that. He wanted to be disturbed, but something convinced him to be contentedly flattered instead.

"You should get some sleep too," he told her. "You need rest just as much as I do."

Evaline paused in her sketching and set her journal to the side, leaving it on the couch as she got to her feet and walked over to him.

"Don't worry about me," she said as she sat on the stool by his bed. "I'll be fine. Come on, you need to eat something first. I can practically see your ribs through your clothes."

James squinted up at her, trying to figure out if that was true, or if she was just using a figure of speech. He couldn't wrap his groggy head around it.

"Here, let me help you up," she said.

James wasn't given a moment to reply as Evaline gently put her arm behind his back and started to lift him upright.

"I hope you're hungry," she said as she placed her hand on his chest.

He couldn't stop the instant wave of panic that washed over him. His skin began to crawl as the nightmarish memory resurfaced. Nothing had happened yet, and he was feeling it again. The daggers, shooting through his chest and out his back.

Frantically, he tried to force his sluggish hands to find the pocketwatch, somewhere in his pockets. He needed to make sure this wasn't a dream. He needed to make sure he wasn't just imagining things. But his arms were moving so slow.

Evaline seemed to notice his panic.

"James..." she hesitated. "Is something wrong? What's going on?"

James finally found the watch in his pocket. It felt like it physically pained him to pull it out. Every muscle in his body was screaming as he turned the clock face up to him to see.

The clock face was empty. It was like he was staring into a black hole.

In the corner of his eyes he could see Evaline's eyes widen, as if she was in on the revelation, and suddenly she pushed him back down on the bed, bringing one hand over his mouth while she kept the other over his heart.

She leaned down to his face and met his eyes with a crazed ferocity he'd never seen in her before.

"The clock was just a trick to make you think that little 'birthday party' was real," she hissed. "Stop lying to yourself, James. I'm never going to forgive you. I never have, and I never will."

James wanted to scream as her hand dug into his chest and ripped out his heart, but she muffled it, and then everything went dark.

James opened his eyes and it was still dark, but something was different. Something was wrong.

He could hear someone starting to whimper, and it took him too many seconds to realize it was himself. With ragged breaths, he tried to move, and he rotated his shoulders, turning to his side.

"James?" he heard Evaline's sleepy voice say next to him.

When he looked towards the source of her voice, James saw that Evaline was groggily slumped over the foot of the bed, slowly sitting up straight on the stool as she rubbed her eyes. His shifting must have woken her up.

"Are you awake?" she asked quietly, like she didn't want to wake him in case he was asleep.

James was still breathing hard. He couldn't make out Evaline's face in the dark - even though there were a few candles lit. He could make out her silhouette, but that was all.

She seemed to pick up the panicked breathing.

"Is -- Is everything okay?" she asked, voice suddenly more concerned and awake. "Did you have another nightmare?"

"I don't know," he said in a shaky whisper. "I don't know if I'm still in one."

Evaline was quiet for a moment. "Do you still have the pocket watch on you?" she asked gently.

He was afraid to look at it now. Shakily, he found it in his pocket and slowly pulled it out, but in the darkness, he couldn't really make out what it said. If it said anything at all.

"I think it's still going," he said as his voice wavered in pitch, on the verge of cracking.

"Let me get a candle," she said softly, then got up out of the stool to grab a lit candle nearby, walking back over. He could finally make out the features of her face, even in the dim candlelight.

She sat back down on the stool, holding the candle near them as she gestured to the watch.

"See?" she said. "You can see the time. This is reality."

James stared down at the watch, looking at the ticking second-hand inching its way around each second mark. He rubbed the glass that covered the face of the clock, trying to rub away the illusion, but it didn't go away. He rubbed harder, but the clock face still stayed.

He looked up at Evaline slowly. Wary, because he didn't want to assume that this wouldn't turn for the worse again. He didn't want to get caught by surprise. He couldn't to that again.

"I'm sorry you still have nightmares," she said, her tired face creased with worry and empathy. "It helps to just lay still for a few minutes. I'm here for you."

James was still trying to slow down his breathing to a normal rate, but he couldn't seem to convince his heart to stop beating like it was afraid it wouldn't beat anymore. Hesitantly, he laid back down on his back, trying to prepare himself for the moment Evaline might turn on him and attack him.

"Don't worry about getting more rest right now," Evaline continued, still holding the candle as she tried to calm him down. "We've got an empty day ahead of us, and I'm okay if we stay inside all day if it means you could be more rested. You can sleep more later, too." She paused, taking a tired deep breath. "Take your time to recover... I'm here if you need me."

James still wasn't sure if this was the real Evaline he was talking to. He didn't want to say anything stupid or careless if it was really her, but he didn't want to keep waiting it out if it was just another nightmare waiting to happen.

"Does it... ever help you to talk about them?" he asked, still breathing hard. His eyes flicked to Evaline and then stuck to her, watching to guage her reaction.

Evaline was quiet for a moment as she slowly set the candle down beside them, then set her hands on her lap as she stared at the bed in front of her.

"I didn't really have anyone to talk about it when I was going through the same thing," she said. "But I'm sure it does help. Do you want to talk about it?"

James wasn't sure if he did. But a small part of him felt like this was real because what he was hearing was new information that Evaline hadn't shared before, so his mind couldn't have just made it up -- that was, unless it wasn't true. He didn't know what was true.

He decided to take a risk. Instead of just saying yes, he went right into it.

"I woke up here in my bed," he said. "But instead of it being night, it was morning. I'd slept in to sunrise, and when I opened my eyes, you were over on the couch..."

He trailed off for a moment, wondering if he should continue.

"Was that the end of the dream?" Evaline asked when a too-long pause had passed.

"No," James said quietly. "We-- we had a whole conversation. And then you came over to help me get up, because I was still exhausted."

Evaline nodded in understanding. "I can see how that can be alarming," she said. "It closely matches reality."

"It did," James said, his voice growing even quieter. "At least, it did. Until..."

He stared up at her with wide eyes, expectantly wishing that she would finish his sentence and prove him right. Prove that this was just another dream. Another false awakening. But she only seemed to look back at him with patience in her eyes, waiting to hear what he had to say.

"I-- I--" he stuttered, and he brought his hands up over his chest, specifically shielding his heart. "It's happened before. Just different. A different place, but you did the same thing. I tried to check the watch, but it was just an empty void. And you got angry. And--and you..."

He found himself shrinking under her gaze. It felt stupid saying it out loud now. He could hear his own words before he said them.

You ripped my heart out.

Neither of them were dull enough for the literal and figurative meaning to be lost on them.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked quietly when he didn't immediately say the words out loud.

He nodded silently, avoiding meeting her eyes.

Evaline's heart sank a bit that James had imagined a frighteningly realistic dream in which he thought he hurt her. She only hoped that he didn't let that bleed into the true reality. That he wouldn't accept her hurting him as a part of reality.

"...I'm sorry you had to go through that," Evaline said softly, trying to meet his eyes so that he'd know that she was deeply sincere. "I would never hurt you. Never."

She wanted to clarify that she meant physical hurt, but the clarification alone stung since it implied she could hurt him emotionally. And she didn't mean to hurt him that way, either. But knowing her own history, she couldn't promise that she wouldn't.

Still, she couldn't help but notice that James was clutching his chest in an odd way, like he was trying feel or cradle his heart. She wondered if that was related. She didn't want to outright ask.

A few seconds passed in silence, and although the silence wasn't comfortable, Evaline waited patiently to hear what he wanted to say, if anything. She noticed that he kept glancing between her and the open room, back and forth, like he was bracing himself for something to happen.

She knew that look. He was paranoid.

Paranoid that she was going to hurt him like she did in his dream.

"I'm not going to hurt you," she assured, then decided to get up and step back, her hands up in the air. "I can give you some space. I'm not going to hurt you."

James watched her, and she could see his chest rising and falling faster, and he seemed to hug himself tighter. It looked like there were tears in his eyes that caught the candlelight.

She wished there was something she could do. She felt helpless, and it pained her to see him like this. It was different seeing him cry in the evening. Now, he was crying because it was like he was scared of her.

"I just... I can't feel it again. It-- I--" his hushed stutter came to an abrupt halt as he hijacked his own sentence. "Have you ever felt like a million knives were digging inside you, ripping you apart from the inside out?"

The thing was, Evaline experienced pain differently than most people. She had the luxury of being able to easily avoid pain -- or at least, not have it last longer than a few seconds. And it went into dreams as well, because if she hardly experienced pain herself, then how could that sensation seep its way into dreams? Into her subconscious?

"And--and it's like it bursts out of you to choke you to death, and you should be dead, but somehow you still feel it all," he continued in a wavering voice. "Just... never-ending. And you're dead but you still feel it."

Evaline bit down on her lip hard, feeling a pang of anxiety. Not for her. For him.

"Is that what you felt in the dream?" she asked softly.

James responded after a few seconds of delay.

"Yes."

"I'm so sorry," she said, feeling her heart sink a little that he had to endure this just to sleep. "That sounds so frightening. You don't deserve to feel all that..."

James's breathing was becoming louder, and more ragged. Though she was farther off, she could tell that he was crying again.

"It's like I can't escape it. No matter how hard I try," he whispered.

Evaline wished she could just give him an answer that would solve everything. But even she understood that this was beyond her power.

But it didn't mean she couldn't help.

"You know?" he said with a sad, quivering laugh. "I didn't start dreaming until after I found the note. Things were fine before the damned note. I only had normal nightmares then. Not these... these vivid hellscapes. I'd learned how to deal with those. I couldn't feel things in the same way like I do now, like everything is real, and my body's really there."

Right. The note. But this was more important right now.

"Can I come closer?" she asked softly. "Can I sit next to you again?"

James slowly turned to look over at her, and though his arms were still crossed like a shield over his chest, he nodded slowly, and it looked like he was calming down, just a little.

Evaline slowly made her way back, sitting down on the stool in front of him and not trying to make any sudden movements. She didn't want to scare him. Not after such a vivid, terrifying dream that she was a part of.

"I'm not sure why the note would be connected to you having vivid nightmares all of a sudden," she said, trying to sound gentle. "But you have it, and I want to help. Do you think it's connected to any intrusive thoughts or emotions you may have? Has there been a reoccurring theme in your nightmares?"

James seemed to sink further into his pillow, and he hesitantly pulled one of his hands away to pull his blanket back up to his chin. He looked like he was holding it tightly.

"...Yes," he said quietly, his voice slightly muffled by the blanket over his mouth.

It was her fault that she asked too many questions at once. She'd have to take it slower.

"What are the reoccurring themes?" she asked.

James was avoiding her eye contact, and it was clear in his eyes that he was ashamed to say.

"There... there's been a lot," he said softly.

"What about the one you just dreamed about?"

James seemed to inch the blanket up just a little higher, over his nose.

"I've had a few dreams where... where you hurt me," he said quietly. "But it never starts like that. It starts-- well, maybe normal isn't the right word. I don't know, one time it was a part of an undone memory from Nye. This time it was a false awakening. It's not always the same."

Assuming that the nightmares weren't connected to the magic associated with the impossibly indestructible note, Evaline wondered whether the dreams were mostly caused by stress or strong emotions that weighed heavy on him. If this were the case, then she wondered if she was a huge stress factor, and that was why she was a reoccurring theme. It pained her to think about that.

"I also... have seen Carter a few times," he said in a hushed whisper.

Evaline remembered when James could barely say Carter's name out loud to her. Hearing it again years later felt a little strange.

"Who else have you seen?" she asked.

"A... a lot of people. Some I don't know," he said. "But there's been..."

"There's been...?" she repeatedly patiently when he trailed off.

"Mel, Hendrik, Malkiel, Tula..." he started listing off names.

He really was dreaming about a lot of people. No doubt that he also dreamed about people in Nye as well.

"And people you've never met," he said. "That I once knew."

She figured that. But she didn't need to pry.

"Maybe it would help if you wrote some of the dreams down," she suggested. "So you can see if there's a commonality between the dreams. Maybe if we identify that, we can prevent it from happening."

"But-- but that's the thing," James said, finally pulling the blanket down from his face. "I don't think -- no, I know not all of them are just dreams. Sometimes they turn into nightmares, but they'll start out as something else. Memories. Or... things that have been undone."

Evaline stared blankly at him for a few seconds, trying to process what he was saying. Trying to understand it right. Trying to verify in her head that he was saying what she thought he was saying.

That he could see undone memories again in erased timelines. That he still possessed that ability from Nye.

It made sense now if this were the case. It made sense that he only got the dreams after seeing the note, and that he had nightmares that blurred the lines between dreams and reality. Because this was the power's weakness: not being able to differentiate between what was real and what wasn't.

And what was the future, if he had that ability again as well. Evaline didn't know. She didn't even know if James was referencing the undone memories from Earth.

"On... Nye?" she asked quietly, not liking what the answer could be either way.

James slowly turned to look at her, and she could tell in the tension of his movement that he was growing apprehensive.

"No... Earth."

Evaline had to fight back the growing hostility she felt bubbling at the back of her throat. She wasn't able to filter the hostile words, but she was at least able to soften the deliverance to sound less mean.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" she asked, trying to sound neutral.

James started to sit up.

"I... they weren't bad at first. It was just... little things. Like a mosquito bite, or Ellie throwing sand into your sketchbook. That was before the-- the sleeping medication. That came after you... you left for a while."

It wasn't bad... at first.

What did he see? Was it mostly of her? Only her?

It was different when they were in Nye. He only saw the memories she did in Nye. He only saw the shared experiences, and even then, that was limited by what she could do at the time.

Now? Now he was seeing her history. Her past. Things that had happened over a year ago. Personal experiences.

It was different when it was just Oliver, because all time travelers were under the watchful eye of his family to make sure ethics were not violated. They didn't really care what she or the others did in her free time.

It felt more personal for James to know. To be able to peer into her present, and peer into her past without her consent.

She felt violated. Like she had no sense of true privacy around someone who cared. Around someone she cared about.

Deflection felt natural on her tongue again.

"I didn't give you the medication," she said flatly. "I didn't give you any medication, even though I could have. I didn't..."

She had to bite her tongue from saying the next words, but she barely caught herself in time.

I didn't trust you with it. And I was right not to.

James looked out into the room with his eyebrows furrowed in deep thought.

"I... had explained my powers more to Oliver, because he kept asking questions," he said slowly. Carefully, like he was considering each word. "I mentioned not being able to sleep. He... suggested the medicine. I thought he told you."

"I told you not to trust him," Evaline said harshly. "The fake story involved aspects of what he could do too. He probably wanted to awaken that in you so you can control me too. Don't you see that?"

James turned to look at her, and he looked hurt.

"Evaline," he said in a whisper. "If I could stop all of this -- the memories. The dreams. All of it. I would do it in an instant. I don't want to see your memories. They're yours. I don't want them. I don't want to control you. I just want it to stop."

He was right. She knew he was right.

Evaline bit her lip from saying anything more, forcing herself to unlight the fuse that was so close to destroying the already-fragile friendship she had with James. She leaned over th bed, setting her elbows on the mattress as se tilted her head down, letting her hair slightly cover her face.

"You're right," she said with a more calm tone. "You're right. I'm sorry. You didn't ask for any of this."

She took a big sigh, deciding to bury her hands in her face so she could have a moment of frustration while she tried to sort through the mess of thoughts in her head. At this point, she wasn't sure if she could go to sleep now.

"I'm sorry for trusting Oliver," James said. "I only took the medicine because I thought you approved of it. I didn't know..."

Evaline paused for far too long, and she only barely moved her hands so that she could speak clearly.

"I'm just glad it was truly sleep medication," she said, trying to sound sincere because she was, but it came out sounding flat.

There was a longer pause on James's end.

"I did consider that it could be something else," he said quietly. His voice lowered even more. "But at the time I didn't... care."

Evaline let out a small, mirthless laugh, even though it was in bad taste. "Oliver isn't a killer," she said. "He wouldn't have poisoned you. If anything, I think the medication is the reason your dreams are so vivid right now. And I'm sure he fully realized what he was doing."

She pulled her arms away and turned to look towards him, trying to meet his eyes and show that she was serious. He was looked back at her attentively.

"When was the last time you had the medicine?" she asked.

"... over a week ago," he said quietly, not looking away.

"I also didn't give you the motion sickness medicine," she admitted, not caring how careless the confession sounded.

James glanced over towards his bookshelf. She assumed that was where he must've kept it.

"I don't want it," he said, barely audible. "Not anymore."

"I'm going to throw it away tomorrow," she said. "Somewhere you won't find it."

James only nodded slightly.

"Okay."

"What else?" she asked urgently. "What else has he given you? That the others have given you? The only gift I indirectly sent to you was the chicken, and that's only because I trust Hendrik."

James looked to the side, looking both deeply concerned and deep in thought. Maybe he couldn't remember.

"I didn't get any other medication," he said quietly. "But. Almost everyone who came by checked to make sure I was taking it. Including Hendrik. The only person who seemed out of the loop was Alistair... and... I don't know if Mel knew..."

"What else have you been given?" Evaline repeated with more urgency in her voice.

"He... also gave me a radio," James said.

Evaline immediately stood up. "Where is it?" she asked.

"On the bookshelf. Top shelf," he said,

As soon as James said bookshelf, she was already turning her heels to walk over there, and her hands blindly sifted through his things in the dark until she found it. She found the radio.

A radio that Oliver gave James.

Evaline let out another mirthless laugh escape her throat as she suddenly threw the radio on the ground and started to stomp at it. When it was clear that it was hard to destroy the exterior shell, she blindly took a nearby book and threw it against the radio on the ground, but she needed something harder. Something to actually destroy it.

She quickly walked into the kitchen and pulled out a cast iron skillet, then hurriedly walked over and smashed the radio into pieces. When she was done, she was standing over the debris, taking a few deep breaths as she held the pan in her hands and then tossed it aside, sifting through the various pieces that she destroyed.

In the corner of her eye, Evaline saw James stand on his feet by his bed, watching her. She probably looked like a lunatic, but she didn't care.

With a shaky hand, she reached out and picked up a small, round object.

It was just like she thought.

The radio was bugged.

James knew immediately that something was wrong. Not just because Evaline was panickely crushing the radio to pieces - but it seemed to fall together when she picked up a small piece that seemed to hold significance.

He'd thought he was being needlessly paranoid. He thought he was making things up.

But he knew without her saying a word: the radio wasn't just a radio. Oliver must've been using it to listen. To him.

To them.

As the realization dawned on him, he heard Evaline manically laugh as she stared at the small piece of the radio, and then she set it on the wood floor and hit it as hard as she could. Crushing it.

"How long do we have?" he asked, deciding not to mince words.

Evaline looked at the mess she created as she tossed the pan to the side again, sitting on her knees. Paranoia washed over her eyes, and her hair seemed to be in as much of a frazzled state as she was.

"Who's visiting you next, and when?" she asked, voice cool.

James knew that the schedule ended after Alistair, but he knew that people always came to check on him on Sundays, and Oliver had told him he was going to follow up about the dreams.

And everything else, now, too.

"Oliver," he said, deciding to state the educated guess as fact. "He's supposed to come today. After sun-up, in the morning. I don't know the exact time, but I'm assuming noon."

Evaline was already up in her feet as she turned to face James, her expression completely serious.

"Now," she said. "Pack whatever you need. We're leaving Terra tonight."

James didn't waste a second hesitating. He knew this feeling, and he knew better than to question the urgency in her voice.

This feeling was familiar. He had packed up his things in moments many, many times before.

He grabbed the bedframe and pulled out Evaline's journal first along with the notes. He found Evaline's dress down there, along with her shoes and a pair of his own clothes that he could vaguely remember washing blood out of, but it looked like they were clean aside from having sat under a house for some time. He grabbed Evaline's picture of Nye, along with the drawing Josie had done for him. He didn't want to leave any evidence of Evaline, but he didn't want to leave any evidence of children in Terra.

It was possible Oliver already figured it out.

James couldn't believe he'd been so stupid.

As he packed, he couldn't help but run through all of the conversations he'd had with people in the cottage since Oliver had given him the radio. He'd confessed to Mel about his true past. He'd talked to Hendrik, and Tula. He'd talked to Isabel several times. Oliver would've overheard everything. He knew he had to tell Evaline, but the time was not now.

He packed only what they would need, and only what he knew they couldn't afford to leave behind. He grabbed his own journal. Clothes, food, spices, cooking supplies - anything he didn't already own (that he still had in his saddlebag from his own travels) he packed into his saddlebag. He used an empty box to pack extra clothes of his for both him and Evaline to share, more food, more essentials.

He left the books. He left the casettes and the player - though he did pack the casette of Evaline singing. He kept the pocketwatch, and the harmonica, and he brought the mirror - only because Evaline said it could be helpful for the dreams. Just in case.

They made sure to clean up the mess that was the broken radio too, and quickly tidied things away.

James got dressed to leave, and they packed everything in under ten panicked minutes, but there was one thing James didn't know how to account for, and that was Sleepy.

He couldn't just leave the poor chicken behind, but he knew he couldn't possibly manage to take a chicken with him in the long run. Right? Not if they were going where he thought they were going. To the ungoverned lands.

Both him and Evaline had their belongings slung over their shoulders as James leaned down and opened the little cage where Sleepy stirred. She'd been awake with all the moving around.

James hurriedly shoved as much chicken feed into a sack as he could - as much as he could afford to fit into his already stuffed bags - and then scooped Sleepy out.

The two of them ran to the shed. Evaline tied things down on her bike while James saddled Elliot up. Fortunately, Elliot was not surprised by the sudden urgency. This was something he had grown used to, and James was beyond grateful for it. Elliot seemed to understand.

They had to go.

Everything was packed onto Elliot's saddle and Eve's bike. James used a shirt to create a pouch across his chest where he put Sleepy, who was strapped to him, so she couldn't fall or fly off.

The amount of words they exchanged in the whole process were few, but Evaline mentioned that she would ditch the bike eventually. They just needed it to get out of Terra fast. As soon as possible.

James mounted up on Elliot and Evaline got on her bike, and the two of them hurried down the road, into the night.

Their goal was to make as much distance as possible.

They rode until the sky started to lighten up, indicating dawn. The sun hadn't quite risen, though.

For hours, Evaline had led the way through the woods. He had noticed that she had only went through a road to get on this path, and that was for the best. They would be harder to find.

She rolled her bike to a stop near a thicket of trees where vines wrapped around them like a torn curtain, and she only glanced over her shoulder before heavily stepping out. She looked tired.

"We can rest here," she said as she opened her bike compartment and took out a sheet of paper. Presumably a map.

James hopped off of Elliot, and patted Elliot on the side.

"Good work, buddy," he said softly, before he slowly wandered to Evaline's side. He didn't talk right away as he watched her unfold the map and start looking it over.

"You haven't slept yet," he said softly. "Do you want to try to sleep soon?"

Evaline rubbed her eyes as she brought the map close to her face, straightening it out.

"You probably have a lot of questions," she said without glancing up at him. "Do you need answers?"

"I can wait, unless you you think we can't," he said. He wanted her to get sleep, because like most people, he knew she would function best if she was able to get some. They were on the run, and he knew better than anyone how draining it could be if you pushed yourself beyond your limits. Fortunately, he knew his limits very well.

Evaline paused for a moment, still focused on the map. "You haven't slept all week," she said. "You should get more rest first."

"I don't want to argue about who's more tired," James said. "But I can tell you with certainty that if I tried to sleep now, I wouldn't be able to for hours. I would rather run with this second wind of alertness if you think you'd be able to wind down and get to sleep."

Evaline slowly lowered the map and then began to fold it, taking her time to fold each crease.

"I am tired," she admitted, even sounding tired as she put the map away. "I'm just worried."

"If there's something you think I should know before you try to sleep, we can talk," James said. "But like I said. I can wait."

He gently reached out and set his hand on her shoulder. He did have a lot of questions, and a lot of things he needed to tell her and discuss, but now was not the time. They were exhausted, stressed, and their brains were fried. What they needed was sleep.

"I can keep watch," he said.

Evaline looked up at him with exhaustion plain on her face as she met his eyes, but then dropped it and sighed deeply as she reached her hand over to the blanket that she had packed with her things on the bike.

"Okay," she said. "We'll be in the safe zone for a while. It shouldn't be dangerous, but it's good to keep watch. Just in case."

She pulled away and started to walk towards a grassy area full of clovers and other vegetation that could act as a bed, and then she fell to her side, deciding to not fight this with him. James was glad for it. He could feel his senses on high alert, and it was a sensation he knew he couldn't turn off easily even if he tried. If anything, he was glad that he'd gotten any sleep at all before this. He considered himself lucky.

"Do you want me to wake you at a certain time?" James asked, looking over at her.

"Three hours from now," Evaline mumbled as she pulled the blanket up and turned away from him.

"Okay," James said.

There was a short pause.

"Thank you," she added.

James watched her, and his expression softened.

"You're welcome. Get some sleep, now, Evaline."

Evaline woke up feeling like something was crawling on her shoulder. Between that and the sound of her name that felt so faraway and warbled like she was underwater, she jerked awake and quickly sat up, frantically looking around as she blinked away the bleariness in her eyes. It took some moments for her eyes to adjust to the light of the morning before she remembered that she was on the run. Away from Terra. With James.

"It's okay," she heard James say steadily. "Nothing's wrong. I'm sorry I startled you."

She looked over in his direction and saw that he was kneeling beside her, and she sighed a breath of relief. She couldn't undo the small rush of adrenaline that flowed through her when she woke up, though. At least this meant she was more awake now.

"Thanks for waking me up," she said hoarsely, already on the move to stand up.

James got to his feet and offered her a hand before she did so, and after a brief hesitation of her staring at his hand, she decided to take it. He helped her up on her feet, and she let go as she offered a look of appreciation.

"Thanks," she said again, noticing that Sleepy the baby chicken was sitting on his shoulder, staring at her. She couldn't help but stare back.

"Were you able to sleep?" James asked.

Evaline nodded, and then tore her gaze away from the chick. She had forgotten that James brought Sleepy along, and for some reason the thought of bringing a chicken while being on the run was too comical to just be a fleeting thought.

"I was," she said. "Do you need more sleep? Even for a little while?"

"I think I'm okay for now," James said. "Nothing happened while you were asleep, so, even though I was awake, I was able to rest."

Evaline hesitated, fighting back a yawn.

"Are you sure?" she asked, then glanced up at the sky, noting that it was morning. Before noon. Before Oliver would notice he was gone. "I don't want you to be exhausted."

"It's a little late for that, I think," James joked with a lighthearted little smile.

She squinted up in the sky. "It's no longer night, but you can still get rest," she said, his joke not even registering to her.

James stared at her for a moment.

"I'm good for now," he said. "Really. I..." he let out a small laugh. "I should be able to sleep tonight, or whenever we stop again."

It didn't make Evaline too happy that James was still running on so few hours of sleep for the week, but he didn't seem exhausted like he was last night. She didn't want to force him to do anything he didn't want to do.

"Okay," she conceded, picking up the blanket to fold it. "As long as you sleep tonight."

"I'm pretty positive that I will," James said with a small nod.

Evaline let a small silence pass as she clumsily folded the blanket, and then she glanced up at the sky again before looking back over at him.

"It's morning," she said. "Do you need anything? Food, water?"

"I ate a little bit already," he said, before giving her a look, like he wanted to make sure she believed him. "I did."

She kept her gaze on him for a moment, wondering why he was implying that she wouldn't believe him.

And then it all came rolling back.

His confession from yesterday evening, the medication that made his dreams worse and sent him spiraling, the overdose, the lack of self-care. She felt bad that they were outside the "safety" of Terra and on the move again. She felt like she could have prevented this. Like if she had stuck around, then he truly would have enjoyed his new simple farm life that she gifted him. Not whatever life this was that she dragged him into.

She walked over to her bike to put the blanket away and take out her map again, ignoring her thirst and hunger for now.

"I'm sorry you got dragged into this mess," she said softly, and she meant it.

"I'm sorry I wasn't more careful," James said. "I don't blame you at all, you know."

"No," she said. "But I shouldn't have left you alone for that long. It was like... he knew I'd do that." And she was right. Oliver did know. "I shouldn't have left you, anyways."

"We can't reverse the damage that's been done," James said softly. "I'm just glad you came back. And I'm glad that we found -- I mean, you found out that Oliver had been listening. I think I'm correct in assuming that, yes?"

"Yes," she said. "I know my radio is compromised too. That's why I always have it turned off."

Evaline unfolded her map and stared at it. Unbeknownst to James, she had prepared for leaving already. She just didn't think she'd leave this soon. But luckily she already had the routes planned out, and she had already discussed the first meeting point with Elise, Mel, and Alistair. She and James were a week ahead of schedule, though.

"I already destroyed mine a few days ago, though," she finished, hoping James wouldn't think upon that implication too much.

"Did something happen?" he asked.

"No," she said simply. It was a planned decision. Nothing happened.

"I know you tried to warn me about Oliver before," James said quietly, standing beside her and looking down at the map with her. "It sounds like you've known about him for a long time."

"I have," Evaline said as she glanced up at him. "All my life. But I don't know what he wants with you."

And that scares me.

"I don't know either," James said quietly. "But... you should probably know what he's overheard. We may not be able to determine his motives or predict his next move with certainty, but I think we should both be on the same page. If anything, it'll give us more clarity on what he may or may not use against me, or you."

Evaline stared down at the map again, her thumb gently the city that was passing through the rendezvous point that she and the others agreed to meet upon three weeks from now. They needed supplies, especially since December was around the corner, and it would be more difficult to forage for food. Not to mention that they would have to pass through the desert in the ungoverned lands. They didn't need to repeat another week of starvation in the desert.

"You can tell me later," she said, because there really was nothing she could do about it at this point. "I'm thinking we keep traveling south until we're tired again, or nightfall comes. Whichever comes first. What do you think?"

"Sounds like a plan, to me," he agreed.

Evaline tilted the map towards him and then tapped with her thumb the city that was slightly off route from the line drawn on the paper. "This is the City of Angels," she said. "It's the biggest city in the safe zone, but it's on the border. I've only passed it once, but it's a trading hub, and people keep to themselves there. We can go there to trade for supplies since we left in a hurry. It'll take about two weeks to get there."

James nodded. "We should be fine for that long," he said. He then patted Sleepy's head, as she was still sitting on his shoulder. Sleepy let out a happy cheep.

I'm sure we could probably trade Sleepy for some useful items, Evaline thought to herself. She took out her canteen and took several big sips of water.

"We'll pass by a river tomorrow that we can follow," she added.

It really was like they were in Nye again, escaping trouble and following a river.

"Will we follow it all the way to the City of Angels?" James asked, leaning in slightly to look at the map a little closer.

"We'll deviate from it when it loops around here," she said, pointing at the map so he could see. "But for the most part, yes."

James nodded, and then Evaline put the map and canteen away as she glanced back at Elliot and his full saddlebags.

"Do you mind if I get food from your saddlebag?" she asked.

"Please do," he said with a wave of his hand.

Evaline nodded and walked over towards Elliot, giving him distracted pets despite him seeming happy to see her again. She dug through the food bag and then pulled out an apple.

"Thanks," she said, then took a bite of the apple as she sat down next to Elliot.

James walked over to her and stood beside her for a moment before plopping down on the ground. They sat there in silence while she ate, and although James seemed like he was patiently waiting for her to say whatever she wanted to say, her mind was far too preoccupied with other thoughts to even care about drawn-out silences together during uncertain times. James seemed to not mind though, and even took out his harmonica to practice a song.

When she finished eating, she tossed the apple core into a nearby bush and stared at him for a second.

"How are you so calm?" she asked. "Aren't you even a little nervous?"

James tucked his harmonica back into his pocket as she spoke, and then looked up at her, seemingly nonplussed.

"Being on the run like this has been my life, for the last six years," he said. "If anything, this is my normal. I feel more comfortable like this than I did on the farm."

Evaline still stared at him, and she couldn't help but feel a little prickled by that.

"You could have told me that you hated Terra," she mumbled, barely loud enough for him to hear.

"I didn't hate it," James said, watching her. "But it was wildly different from the lifestyle I've grown used to. I'm used to always watching my back. In Terra, all of the outside pressures I'd always had were taken away. It wasn't bad by any means... but in some ways... I don't know. It's like... I felt naked. I don't quite know how to describe it."

Evaline was quiet for a moment as she stared at the thicket of trees in front of them, watching how the leaves in the branches swayed in the breeze.

"Do you want to have a life with constant outside pressure?" she asked. "Do you even want to be safe?"

James looked out into the forest.

"I think I do want to be safe," James said softly. "But I think I've been surrounded by constant dangers for so long that I don't really know what that feels like anymore. So when it was all just... taken away... I didn't know what to do with myself."

She knew that this was no one's fault. But she couldn't help but feel like she had unknowingly caused his downward spiral because she put him in a place for three months where he "didn't know what to do with himself."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't know."

"I didn't know either," James said softly. "And by the time I did, I didn't know how to tell you."

Evaline took a deep breath out, staring at the ground in front of them. "I shouldn't have left you alone for that long," she said. "But I won't leave you again. Especially now."

James was quiet for a moment.

"It's not your fault, you know," he said, still speaking softly. "That I'm like this."

Evaline sharply turned her head towards him. "James, I'm not blaming myself, and I'm not blaming you, either," she said. "You make it sound like I dislike the way you are, which is the furthest from the truth."

She paused, watching how he was looking at his lap with a visibly more sad, like he had thought what she said was true until she said it wasn't.

"I just..." She sighed, tearing her gaze away. "I just wish you didn't suffer," she finished softly.

His response was delayed.

"I don't know," he said quietly. "It hasn't been all bad."

"I don't think good suffering exists," she countered.

"I don't mean that," he said. "I just meant that there was some good in the midst of it."

"Good doesn't mean best," Evaline countered again. "All I'm saying is that I wished I could just... lift you up from a life of misery so that you could live your best life."

"I don't think life works like that most of the time," he said. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I think knowing that I'm not going through the misery alone is more meaningful than to be suddenly and miraculously rescued out of it."

Evaline ran his words in her head one more time before returning her gaze back at him, noting how he was focused on his lap still, but this time with a softened expression. Like he wasn't holding anything back.

"Are you going through misery now?" she asked.

James flicked his eyes up at her, but only for a moment.

"Not all pain is visible," he said quietly.

So that was a yes.

"No," she said. "It's not." She sighed, drawing it out. "I hope... I can help, somehow. To lessen the pain."

"Sometimes, just being there is enough," he said softly. "It doesn't have to be complicated."

"Our situation now is complicated, though," she said. "Which doesn't help."

"I know that," he said. "I'm just saying that your presence alone helps more than you think it does."

"...Am I helping now?" she asked softly.

James looked up at her and met her eyes, smiling a small smile. It may have been small, but it still seemed sincere.

"Yeah."

She held his gaze for a moment but wasn't ready to return the smile in appreciation. Not yet.

"Can you tell me the next time I'm not helping?" she asked. "I don't want to make the same mistake again."

His smile faltered.

"Evaline, you're not the source. You know that, right?"

Maybe not the source of the desire to no longer wake up, but she still was a source of pain and misery.

"I just want you to tell me the next time I do something that hurts you," she said, avoiding his question. "That's all."

"So... communicating," he said slowly.

"I... guess so," she agreed.

James looked at her, then out into the forest, then back at her again.

"Would it be too much to ask that the communication would be reciprocated?"

Evaline stared at him for a second, but had to rip her stare away as she considered the question. She didn't want to be vulnerable. Not really. Communicating her inner thoughts often lead to that.

"I don't really feel pain the way you do," she said instead. "I don't really have much to communicate."

"That's not what I asked," James said. "Nor what I meant."

"I wouldn't want to agree and then have you think I'm not sharing when the reality is that I have nothing to share," she continued.

James looked at her for a moment. He didn't seem bothered - he just seemed sincere.

"If you had nothing to share, I would wonder why you were being so hesitant. But I don't want to force you to share anything. I just want you to be honest. If you don't want to, you can say that," he said calmly.

Evaline let a too-long silence passed as she slowly brought a knee up and leaned her elbow against it, propping her head up with her hand as she stared at the woods in front of them.

If they were going to travel together for the next few months, she may as well tell him.

"To be honest," she said slowly, articulating each word. "I don't allow myself to feel anything anymore. That's why things don't bother me as much. Because it doesn't bother me. Not anymore."

James let another small silence pass.

"That's why there really isn't a point," she added. "I have nothing to communicate."

"For someone who has nothing to communicate," James said. "You just communicated something. So I beg to differ."

Evaline huffed out some air through her nose, but stayed still.

"I guess," she said. "But I'd rather listen and help you instead."

"I think you're wrong to assume that I wouldn't mind listening to you, even if it's 'nothing.' Nothing is still something to be noted," he said. "I don't see why you couldn't do both if you wanted to."

Evaline sighed. "I'm asking you if you can just tell me if I said something insensitive, or if I did something or said something to hurt you," she said. "That's all."

"If you say something that hurts me, I'll tell you," he finally said. "But if I say something that hurts you, even if you don't feel it... I want to know too."

"How are you supposed to know if something hurts you if you can't even feel it?"

"I think there are a few ways," James said. "Does it stay in your head, and you can't get it out? Does it change the way you act, talk, or interact with people for the worse? Does it make you want to avoid the person, so they don't say something like that again?"

Well, that wasn't fair. Without context, it sounded like James was simply describing her behavior the entire time she had been with him.

Evaline felt a small groan escape her throat as she pinched the bridge of her nose, not liking the next words she were coming up.

"Okay," she said. "Fine. I'll communicate."

James was quiet for a moment.

"And I will too," he said.

"Well?" she said, still rubbing her nose. "Is there anything you'd like to communicate with me now?"

"Perhaps this doesn't fall into the boundary lines that you set," he said. "But would I be right in assuming I said something that bothered you?"

Evaline snapped her head up and narrowed her eyes at him. "Did I ask the question first?" she said flatly.

"Nothing you've said so far has hurt me," he said. "I'm only concerned that I said something that's bothered you."

"So far," she repeated. "Nothing I've said so far has hurt you. Do you mean ever? Or today? How long is your time frame?"

"You want... to go back to the beginning?" James asked, giving her a look of disbelief.

"No!" Evaline said too quickly. "No. I meant..." She groaned again. "Your time here. On Earth. That beginning."

"Oh," he said, and then went quiet. Several agonizingly long seconds passed.

"I... have to be honest with you," he said. "There have been a few things that you've said where I don't know if they've been real or not. It's kind of all blended together in my head, and I don't know if it's fair to quote something that might not have actually been you. It could have just been my subconscious... talking to myself."

"What is it?" she cut in when he was taking too long to get to the point.

James looked at her, but his forehead was creased with worry.

"I've heard you tell me that... you will never forgive me," he said, dropping his gaze instantly to the ground. "Several times."

Evaline stared at him for a few seconds, trying to process the implication. The meaning. She needed the silence to refill her nearly-empty sink of patience that she needed to have for this conversation.

"In what context?" she asked with a much gentler voice, even though she had a feeling that she already knew the answer.

"For leaving you," he said lowly. "For letting you go."

So they were having this conversation again.

At least... in the nearly two months that had passed, she had some time to brace herself for this conversation. She knew it was inevitable.

She didn't want to go into specifics, but felt like James needed to know.

"There's nothing to forgive if I think you've done nothing wrong," she said. "I've already told you: I don't blame you."

James didn't quite look at her, though he did turn his face up a little more.

"Is the reason you don't blame me because you don't feel the pain of it anymore?" he asked.

It was hard to maintain eye contact. Evaline had to look away in shame.

"No," she said. "I don't blame you because I never have. I blame myself."

She paused for a moment.

"But you're right that I don't feel the pain of it anymore. At least... not unless I allow myself to."

"Did you allow yourself to before you left? When we talked. On the farm," he said softly.

Evaline took a deep breath, clutching her knee. "Why am I the one being questioned?" she asked neutrally. "Why is this about me now?"

James looked back up at her, meeting her eyes for just a moment before she looked away again.

"Evaline," he said gently. "In order to talk about the things we've said that have hurt each other, we have to have more than just a factual conversation--"

"Well, maybe some pain is visible," she cut in. "And I don't want to show it."

James pursed his lips and pinched his eyebrows upward.

"You don't have to," he said. "No one's going to make you, and I--"

"That's the thing, isn't it?" she interrupted again.

She turned towards him just so she could meet his eyes again, this time wordlessly begging him to understand.

"I can't always control it. But I want to control it. And that means not talking about it," she finished, already feeling herself slipping from losing stability again.

James took in a deep breath.

"Okay," he said softly. "I won't force you to. And I know I can't understand what it feels like to be in your head, but I hope that you know I know what it feels like to keep it all inside. To suffer silently. I've done it for a long, long time. And I--I'm trying. I'm trying not to. Because I know you--"

His sentence cut off and he took in another deep breath.

"I don't want to make things worse between us, so if you want to drop it, I'll drop it. But I just want you to know that I care too, okay? I care about you too. Even if you don't want to talk about it."

A part of her wanted him to stop talking, but she made no effort to cut him off again. Instead she stared blankly ahead, refusing to let his words feel anything more than a dull numbness in her head, but she wasn't sure if she was able to filter it all.

Evaline was scared that she was once again on the path to repeat her history.

Their history.

A long silence passed, and she finally slowly stood up.

"We should go," she said with an empty voice. "We've stayed here too long."

James got up wordlessly and nodded, and she walked towards her bike while James went up to Elliot.

"Follow me, and let me know if you or Elliot need any breaks," she said, readying her bike. "We'll ride until nightfall, and I'll match your pace if Elliot slows. Okay?"

"Okay," was James's quiet response.

Evaline leaned over to knock up her kickstands, but then paused before she took off. She glanced over her shoulder at him, noting how he was looking away, and there was a sadness in his eyes. Her heart sank a little.

"James?" she called.

James looked up at her.

"Thank you," she said after a short hesitation. "For caring."

James swallowed, and it looked like he forced a small smile.

"Of course, Evaline," he said softly. "I always will."

That's also it, isn't it? That's why we can't be together.

Evaline sharply turned away and readied her bike.

"Okay," she said softly. "Let's go."

They rode for the rest of the day, only taking brief stops until nightfall, and all Evaline could think about was: what am I going to do to make sure this doesn't happen again?