Young Writers Society

James knew they had two weeks ahead of them alone together, and he was afraid he'd already ruined it. After she shut him down again, he decided he wasn't going to bring it up anymore. Not unless she did, or if it was absolutely necessary - and even then, he couldn't think of a situation where it would be.

It was possible to avoid the pain of his betrayal, but he knew that they both knew it was still there. In some ways, letting it fester in silence felt like it was doing more damage than good, but James couldn't make Evaline want to feel again. Not after she'd chosen to push all emotions away. Not after she went out of her way to forget the pain he'd caused her.

He just had to hope that she meant it when she said she cared about him, and that she wasn't going to leave him. He had to believe that he wouldn't wake up one day and find that she'd changed her mind about him.

Otherwise, why was he letting her in?

Now that she knew, he couldn't just hide it anymore.

He was begging for it to not be too much to push her away. That he wouldn't be too much for her.

But he let those worries voice themselves quietly in the back of his mind, and decided to focus on the present. He used to do that more. Taking it day by day, instead of hanging on to the past, wishing it would stay. If he could focus on what was needed for the moment, it would be easier to not address the elephant in the room.

For now, they were on the run. Oliver knew things he wasn't supposed to know, and that felt like more than enough to unpack for the time being.

After about a day and a half of travel, James and Evaline sat around a campfire. It felt nostalgic, in a way. The woods were different, and the world was different, but structurally, the setting was the same. They were camping out underneath the open sky in the forest. Just like old times.

Of course, things were more complicated than that, but it was a sentimental thought.

In their tense 48 hours of travel, James filled a few of their silences by playing the harmonica. A few songs came back to him easily, while others he stumbled through, trying to remember, and making up the rest. Sometimes Evaline would comment if she liked one, but sometimes she would just let him play as they traveled side by side with him on Elliot and her on her bike.

He also noticed that now that both the sleep and motion sickness medications were out of his system, the past two nights he'd slept (albeit, briefly as always) his dreams were far more mild. He had suspicions that he was dreaming undone memories of mild inconveniences, but they were a relief in comparison.

He was beginning to wonder if the sleep medication was just that.

James stared at the crackling campfire between him and Evaline. Sleepy was sitting comfortably in his lap, and Evaline looked lost in thought. They were both tired from pushing to make as much distance as possible and from sleeping in short shifts, and he knew things would only get harder when they reached the ungoverned lands.

It was probably better to talk about this now, when they were relatively safe.

"You know, a few days after I got the radio," he said, ripping away the silence between them. "Mel came by."

Evaline slowly looked over at him, her expression unreadable. "And?" she said.

"I told her the truth," he said. "A very summarized version of it. She believed me."

She was silent for a few moments, like she was processing not only his words, but the implication as well.

"And your radio was on," she said. "Wasn't it?"

"At the risk of sounding like a clueless idiot, I actually didn't know there was a way to turn it off. So... yes," he admitted.

Evaline took a deep breath, not even a bit amused of the light jab he took at himself.

"So, you talked about Nye," she stated.

"Yes. I didn't really go into detail about what Nye was like, but I did briefly explained my wanted status to provide context for our situation when we were together, along with why I was wanted in the first place," he explained.

Evaline paused for a while again. "So, you talked about us," she stated again.

"Yes," James said. And he briefly hesitated before adding: "Oliver would know that we were in a relationship. Mel... brought it up. I wasn't going to address it with her."

Evaline slowly brought her knees up and then leaned forward to set her chin on top, gazing emptily over to the fire.

"He's able to peer into the future of everything I've undone," she began after another long pause, voice steady. "That's a lot of information. And I've never figured out what he knows and instead err on the side of caution and assume he already knows information I suspect may be leaked."

She sighed.

"I bring that up because it's possible that he already knew the story I told Mel," she finished quietly. "So he might have already knew the second he saw you."

"Do you think he's the kind of person who would believe I'm from another world? Or do you think he's probably just deduced that I'm crazy?" James asked.

"I don't know what inferences he'd make from all this," she said. "But he is the kind of person to feel threatened that someone like you would exist. So I don't like it either way."

James was quiet for a moment and nodded.

That was right. Him and Oliver had similar abilities. The only major difference was Oliver's dreams were waking ones, and James's were exclusive to his sleep.

"I also mentioned the notes," he said. "And... magic."

He didn't feel the need to add on another qualifier. He felt that they both had reached a point where they didn't know what Oliver wanted with him, or any of this information.

Evaline sighed again. "I can only hope that he legitmately thinks you're crazy and isn't threatened by the existence of magic from a whole other world."

"If he's threatened by it, I'd think he would've understood from my explanation to Mel that I don't understand it either, but... yeah," he said, his words growing quieter at the end of his sentence.

"You'd certainly understand it better than him. But he could also be under the impression that magic and powers are all the same thing, and you were using different terminology. I don't know."

James shrugged slightly. "In some ways, I kind of was," he said softly.

A small silence passed.

"What reasons did you say you were wanted for?" she asked.

"I mentioned I was a soldier in the kingdom's military and that I sabotaged an experiment to create super-powered child soldiers," he said. "I was deliberately trying to use terminology I thought Mel would understand most."

Evaline suddenly let out a quick, short-burst mirthless laugh as she shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she said. "But I think -- well, I think that just makes things worse."

"I realize that now," he said. "I... there are a lot of things I would've done differently if I knew someone else was listening."

"You didn't know. It's not your fault," she assured with a calmer voice. "We'll figure this out together."

James let out a deep sigh.

"I just... I don't think I want to know what Oliver thinks of me, honestly," he muttered.

Another small silence passed as the fire loudly cracked through the wood.

"I don't think you ever told me," she said. "What was the experiment to create child mage soldiers? What was the process?"

"To create them?" he asked.

"I'm just thinking ahead," she said. "He'd like to know how."

"It requires dragon blood," James said, looking to the side with his eyebrows raised. "Pretty positive you don't have that here."

Evaline huffed a quick breath of air through her nose. "Yeah," she said. "No dragons here."

She paused for a moment.

"Those are the giant flying lizards that breathe out fire, right?"

"They're also people," James said. "But that too."

Evaline squinted her eyes at him. "How can lizards also be people?"

"I..." James looked at her and sighed. "I might be easier to start with werewolves. Did I explain those to you?"

"No," she said. "But I've heard of them from fairy tales. Humans that turn into a wolf with a full moon?"

"The full moon stuff isn't real," James said. "At least, not for Nye. On Nye, werewolves are people, but they also have a wolven form. They're able to switch between the two at will, and it's instantaneous. There is no gruesome transformation, and there's no part-wolf part-human appearance. Just fully wolf, or fully human."

Evaline hummed this over. "Have you ever met one?" she asked.

"Yes," James said steadily. "That's the only reason I know myth from fact."

"So that means you've also met a dragon?" she deduced.

"No," he said. "I mean... yes. I--that's not important. What I'm trying to get at is that dragons are the same way. They switch between forms at will. So yes, they can have a fearsome appearance as a giant dragon, but they can also take the shape and size of a normal human. In that way, both dragons and werewolves can hide in plain sight."

Evaline nodded slowly, seemingly invested in Nye's lore.

"So, you've seen werewolves and dragons transform, then," she said.

"Only a werewolf," he said. He didn't know how much she was going to pry. It felt weird to talk about this again.

He didn't expect the next questions to come out of her mouth.

"Do they act like wolves when human, too? Or does the wolf act human? Can the wolf form even speak?" she asked.

James stared at her blankly, blinking slowly.

"Oooookay," he said slowly. "One question at a time. No, werewolves can't speak in their wolf form. They have wolf vocal cords, so it doesn't work the same. I would say werewolves are just... different. They do act as creatures with human intelligence, because they are, but they do have some more... I suppose... canine-like behaviors. But that's only basing that knowledge off the one person I knew who was a werewolf. I can't speak for a whole people group."

Evaline was leaning in, far too absorbed in his explanation, and she nodded again when he finished.

"They sound like interesting creatures," she commented. "How did you meet the werewolf?"

That was the question James didn't really want to answer. He twisted his lips to the side and looked off into the fire, humming deeply.

"We... met in the jungle. In Nye, werewolves are few. They're believed to have lived among humans in secret for a long time. They were hunted long before mages ever were, and weren't seen as human. I preface our meeting with that historical context just so -- so you might understand how it was very unusual. Me meeting her in the first place," he said. "And she was out there in hiding. From humans."

"She's lucky she ran into you then," she said. "Since you're open-minded."

James stared into the fire more intensely.

"In that way... yes," he admitted quietly. "I suppose so."

Evaline seemed to detect his growing reluctance to answer her questions, but she kept on going anyways.

"Was she a friend?" she asked.

James knew he had to just say it. He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes before looking back into the flames.

"Amy was the werewolf. So... yes. We were friends. I met her after a bounty hunter drove me deep into the jungle. It was the only place she wouldn't follow," James said.

Evaline was quiet for a moment, her gaze also resting on the fire.

"Sorry," she said softly. "I didn't know."

"It's okay," he said. "I know. It..."

He shifted so he was leaning forward. There was a creeping, unsettled emotion stirring in his gut, and he could feel the skin on his back starting to itch, like it would if it was a healing scab.

He cleared his throat.

"The jungle is very dangerous," he said. "Much like the ungoverned lands, it's overridden with monsters. It was a difficult time. Surviving."

It was implied that Amy didn't.

Another silence passed between them.

"So, dragons," she said, changing the subject like she knew it was difficult for him to talk about the subject further. "Did you meet one in the human or lizard form?"

James was grateful she changed the subject, but he wished this one didn't feel just as complicated but for different reasons. At least Evaline knew more of the context around it, so he wouldn't have to peel back the layers around it.

"Human form," James said. "His name was Mickey. I only knew him for a short time. He... helped me. When I ran away from home as a child."

Evaline let another small silence pass. Perhaps she didn't realize that the topic change wasn't as lighthearted as she thought.

"Is that why... you did it?" she asked quietly, being completely vague. But he knew what she was implying.

James glanced up at her quickly.

"No," he said. "I ran into him after I had run away. Before I met up with Carter and--"

He was having trouble remembering what he'd told Evaline. It had been five years, now. He couldn't remember all of the details of every conversation they ever had.

"It was winter, and he found me when I was cold and hungry. I didn't know he was a dragon at first," James said. "He revealed that later. And... I think he's the only reason my time in the military went the way it did. Or, ended the way it did. I don't consider that a bad thing, though. He was a good influence. He helped solidify what I'd always known, which is that mages are people. But also werewolves and dragons are people."

He paused, before adding.

"And goblins are people."

Though that one had taken him much longer to accept. He wasn't proud of that.

"I think..." Evaline began, but then paused, brows furrowed and focused as she stared at the fire. "I think you're the most open-minded, compassionate person I know."

James slowly turned to look at Evaline, and he stared at her blankly for a moment.

He had no idea what to do with that. No idea at all.

"I'd have thought that the military would have corrupted your integrity," she continued when he didn't immediately answer. "But it didn't, and I think that's rather admirable."

James felt his heart starting to twist over old pains he'd thought he'd forgotten. They felt so far away, and he couldn't help but feel guilty over the fact that he'd even forgotten.

It felt wrong to have Evaline believe something about him that wasn't true.

"Mickey's influence helped me get there," James said. "It helped me realize all of those things eventually. But when I was in the military I made many compromises with my morals in the process. I turned a blind eye to both the violence against mages and against goblins. I am far from a perfect person, and my integrity is far from unmarred."

He paused, feeling his words hang heavily in the air. It had been so long since he'd even thought about his time in the military like this. He'd almost forgotten - no - he had forgotten who he was. Who he used to be.

"I'm ashamed that I was even a part of a kingdom and an institution that was responsible for the deaths of so many innocent people, and so many pointless wars."

Evaline was listening and watching him with her full attention, patiently waiting for him to finish before she spoke with a gentle voice.

"I think the fact that you even recognize your shame and the atrocities the kingdom have committed says a lot about your character," she said. "You say that your integrity is compromised because of what you have done. But that doesn't mean you're not a respectable person now. Who you were back then is not the person you are now."

She paused for a second before too-quickly adding, "And I rather like the person you are now. Or -- prefer it. So..."

She trailed off before finishing the thought, biting her tongue and looking away again.

James took in a deep breath, and looked at her, then back into the fire.

"Well... thanks," he said.

"You're welcome, I guess," she answered back.

"As a terrible transition, there was more," he said. "That Oliver might've heard. If you want to take a few steps back again."

Evaline cleared her throat and nodded. "Oh. Right. Sure, tell me."

"I think the conversation with Mel was probably the worst of it," he prefaced. "But a few others did come into the cottage, and we talked. I ended up telling both Mel and Hendrik that I don't like being touched, and I told Hendrik that I have bad dreams, but I didn't really get into it. We mentioned minor things, like writing, and reading, and music. Isabel also stopped by and shared about her parents - whom you already know. She also warned me about you, and the council. About trusting you all."

He looked to the side, sighing.

"In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have dismissed it so easily. Obviously not about you, but-- Oliver."

"It -- It's fine," Evaline said. "That sounds... ominous, but Isabel couldn't have known either."

"That was my impression as well," James said. He looked off to the side. "...She's probably worried about me, now that I've disappeared without a trace. But I guess there's no changing that now."

Evaline let out a partial groan through a sigh as she shifted her position, leaning forward and squishing her cheek against her hand she used to prop her head.

"She'll probably end up thinking I kidnapped you," she said. "Which will only make her hate me more, probably."

"I've tried to tell her you're not the villain she paints you to be, but I don't think either of us can control what she thinks," James said softly. "Besides... it's unlikely either of us will see her again. Maybe that's calloused of me to say-- no, I know it is."

He looked into the fire, feeling a creeping shame return to him.

"Sorry," he mumbled, pinching his eyes shut. He didn't mean it like that.

"That's okay, I get it," Evaline said. "I don't know when we'll get back either." She paused. "If we get back."

James was quiet for a moment.

"Right," he said softly. "There's... the mission, right? Are you still doing that, even with Oliver...?"

"I don't plan on returning to the safe zone," she said quickly. "I plan on going to the final destination for the mission, but I don't plan on coming back."

She looked off to her side.

"And... I don't really know what will happen, or if we'll find safe shelter, or if you'll end up trusting someone else as much as you trust me. But I don't expect you to just... aimlessly follow me forever."

She paused again, sighed, and then quickly added, "But that's months from now. We'll have to figure it out then."

James wanted to make a witty comment about how he was an expert at aimlessly wandering forever, but he felt like it could hint too much at their past. Because once upon a time, she had been willing to aimlessly follow him forever. So he decided to do what she said, and save it for later.

It was also helpful to know that she wasn't planning on ditching him when they went on the mission. He'd told Elise he wanted to help, and wanted to go. So... he was glad he and Evaline were on the same page. They were both going.

But that meant James would have to change the topic, or return to...

He squinted in discomfort.

"There is..." he said, forcing the words out. "One more thing. That Oliver probably overheard. At least, aside from our conversation after my nightmare, which, I'm sure you already -- you know that."

"What is it?" Evaline said wearily, looking up at him.

"Tula came by to visit," James said, feeling more and more like disappearing into the darkness of the night so he couldn't be seen, or heard, or percieved.

"She asked about my family, and I told a bunch of partial truths about growing up on a farm, and having a brother. It was mostly a bunch of lies, so I don't think it's that important, really, but..."

He closed his eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he slouched forward.

"She kissed me quickly on her way out," he mumbled. "Obviously, Oliver couldn't see everything going on. But... I think anyone intelligent would be able to figure it out."

"...Oh," he heard Evaline said quietly. "I... well, I don't know what he'd do with that information."

"Neither do I," James said, looking away from her. "But I wasn't..."

He sighed again, bringing his hands up to his face and letting out a groan. He dragged his fingers down his face and stared back into the fire.

"That, plus screaming in crying in the night from nightmares... I don't even know," he muttered.

"Tula was probably just trying to get close to you," Evaline said, like she didn't even hear his last sentence since she was hung-up over this detail. "So that she could look through your eyes. But it had to be mutual, so unless -- well, that's what I think anyways. She could just--"

"I didn't kiss her back," he said quickly.

"Well, that's good -- for her power, I mean," she said quickly as well. "It had to go both ways for it to work, so, no surprises for you, then."

"I..." James took in another deep breath, sitting up a bit straighter. "I thought at the party that she understood I wasn't interested when I explained the whole... flower thing. But she keeps..."

"Tula has done that with many people," Evaline cut in. "I think you're just her new target. I'm sorry if she's caused discomfort."

"It's not your fault," James mumbled. "I'm probably not helping by still trying to be friendly. I don't know. I've just been trying to keep the others on the council from disliking me. I know maybe that's -- not the most important thing in the world, but I just thought -- if I'm going to be here a while, and be seeing them all the time..."

"She doesn't like brash, arrogant people," Evaline said. "If you insult her enough times and push her away, she'd leave you alone." She paused. "Because... you don't need to keep up appearances since we're -- you know. Not on Terra."

"Will the others find out?" James asked, looking up at her.

"About you insulting Tula?" she asked with a raised brow.

"What-- no," James said. "About--- us being on the run. All the things Oliver knows. The spying."

"...I don't know," she admitted. "I don't know if Oliver would even tell them at all. If not, the biggest question would be why I brought you along."

"I told Elise myself that I wanted to help. She asked me if I would," James said. "I think that's simple enough of an explanation."

Evaline looked up at him with a hard-to-read expression. "Why would you even want to help?" she asked neutrally.

James met her eyes for a moment, and then looked off into the fire.

"I guess..." he said, his voice growing softer. "I saw a little bit of myself in her, and in Elias. She would do anything to see her brother again, and... I can understand that."

Evaline didn't say anything for a few long seconds, but then she slowly allowed herself to fall on her side so she was on the ground, blanket nearby like she was ready to sleep.

"Yeah," she said with a tired voice. "She would do anything to save her brother."

James knew that there was a lot he still didn't understand about Evaline's past and her relationships with her estranged friends, but her cryptic reply sounded bitter. It almost gave him the impression that she was going on the mission less to help Elise, and more as an excuse to get deep into the ungoverned lands, where she could stay away from people like Oliver.

"I'm... not sure what you mean by that," James said softly. "But... okay."

"I'm just agreeing with you," Evaline said with forced innocence as she draped the blanket across her and then turned to her side so her back was facing him. "I'm going to go to sleep now."

James wasn't going to poke that bear.

"Okay," he said again. "I can wake you in a few hours."

"Mmmhmm."

He let that be the end of it.

Two more days passed, and James was adding things to the list of things Evaline apparently never wanted to talk about.

Don't mention:

- Elise or Elias/the mission
- Our relationship and how it ended
- Her opening up, being vulnerable, or feeling again
- Her time during the war (seems like a touchy topic too)
- The anti-violence group Elise is a part of (?)
- Alan's death and the friends involved (don't allude to Mel and Alistair in her past...Arima??)
- Isbael and her parents (seems like there's more to that)
- Oliver (aside from the obvious)
- Parents/Sector 2
- Her role in refugee program

It was a long list.

Amazingly, they found other things to talk about a lot of the time, but they still spent large portions of their time traveling in silence. Some of that was just a natural part of traveling together all hours of the day. It was both unrealistic and unenjoyable to have to talk and entertain the other person all of the time, but he knew that, with her, there were still unspoken layers of tension.

They had been traveling by the river, and they stopped about midday to fill up on water, and James felt it was a natural point to start conversation as they both dipped their canteens in the water.

"I know it's been a few days since Terra, and being on the run, and everything," he started. "But you did mention checking the note again. The one I found here, on earth. I honestly haven't looked at it yet, but -- would you mind if I pulled it out?"

He started screwing the lid to his canteen shut as he got to his feet.

Evaline was still kneeling over the river with her canteen as she watched him walk over to Elliot to pull the note out.

"Sure, let's look at it," she said, then paused. "Do you mind if I look at it before you do?"

James glanced down at the folded note in his hands, hesitating. If it really did say what he'd read, he wasn't sure he really wanted to read it again. But that was the thing: he didn't know.

He nodded, and walked over, handing it to her.

"Sure," he said.

She quickly took it off his hands as she unfolded it and began to read the words, her eyes darting across the page. And then she started to smile, just a little, before offering the note to him instead.

"There is a second verse," she said. "But no mention of drowning."

James offered his hand to take the note back so he could read it, and she gave it to him without hesitation.

He quickly read through it.



"Huh," he said, staring down at the piece of paper. "So now the piece of paper wants to give me life advice."

Evaline suddenly let out a small, giddy laugh. "Yeah," she said with a smile. "Seems so."

"At least it isn't what I thought it was," he said.

"And that's a good thing," she said a little too eagerly. "I like this verse better."

"I... I agree," James said slowly, and, (admittedly) a little awkwardly.

Evaline got up and stood by his side, leaning over the paper so she could see it too. "Sorry, I didn't actually fully read it," she murmured. "Let me read it slower so I can help you decipher it."

"It looks like there's probably a third verse we still have to wait for," James said in thought. "I don't know if it's worth trying to decipher too much without the full picture, honestly."

Evaline stared at the verse for a couple more seconds before slowly turning her head towards him and leaned away, smirking as she crossed her arms.

"Remember when you completely broke down when the second verse appeared in Nye?" she said in a teasing voice. "You've really changed, huh."

"Yeah," James said. "Immunity to cryptic notes and a new haircut."

Evaline nodded. "Something has really changed about you," she mused, then paused. "Hmm, yeah. It's the hair."

"It's changed a lot, honestly," James said. "Over the years."

Her gaze rested on his hair now, like she was studying it.

"I assume this is a purely Earth style?" she asked.

"I gave Mel a general idea, and she did the rest," he said. "So... I mean, I assume so. I don't really know what would make hair distinctly--"

Suddenly, Evaline leaned in and blew on his face, closer to his ear and eye where his bangs were brushing his forehead and cheek.

"You had an eyelash on your face," she commented when finished, clearly repressing a smirk. "It's gone now."

James squinted too late at the puff of air she'd blown into his eyes. Her breath smelled like citrus from the oranges they'd eaten earlier. He leaned back a little and brushed his face and hair out of the way, looking at her with a slight smirk.

"Oh, yeah, sure," he said sarcastically.

She smiled a little as she met his gaze, but then turned away, and let a two second pause sit between them.

"So about --"

"So, uh--"

She quickly turned back towards him and spoke before he could get to it again.

"What were you saying?" she asked.

"Uh," James said. This was one of those situations where he was going to wait and see what he could pull out of his head in the moment. He hadn't had anything in mind, he was only trying to break the silence. "I... uh. Nothing, really. Actually."

He laughed weakly.

Evaline squinted at him but then looked back down at the note, leaning in again to read it like she was trying to commit it to memory.

"Well, I was just going to mention the note again," she said. "I don't really know what to even do with these verses."

James was glad she changed the subject to something relevant. James was just going to keep talking about his hair, which would've been boring.

"Neither do I," he said with a small sigh.

"So we just... ignore it, then...?" she said, the sentence trailing off with a higher pitch.

James was quiet a moment as he stared down at the note.

"I think we can keep it in mind," he said. "Maybe things will make sense later. I just know it doesn't really make sense now."

"Sure," she said a little quieter. "I guess... we'll just keep traveling, then. Like nothing has changed."

"Well when you put it like that..." James trailed off, shaking his head with a small laugh through his nose. "Yeah. Basically."

"Unless you want something else," Evaline added quickly. "I mean, the situation is different here than it is in Nye. We're not consistently in terrifying danger. At least, I hope not. I mean -- we shouldn't. Although..." She stopped herself before she could even finish any of the sentences she attempted to start.

"And the last note actually told you something you could from the beginning," James added. "Whereas this one is moreso... telling a story. One that's incomplete."

She glanced up at him. "So you think we just need to wait until we find out the end of the story?" she asked.

"I think you can't really know what a story means until you know it in its entirety," he said, glancing back at her.

"I suppose," she murmured. "I suppose we'll just wait to find out what that is, then."

"And if we don't like it, we can always ignore it again," James suggested with a small smile and a shrug.

He caught her glancing up at him again.

"Is that what you want?" she asked. "Or... maybe something you want?"

"Maybe," he said. "It really just depends on what the rest will say."

Evaline sighed. "Yeah. I guess we can table this discussion until then. But for now..."

She pointed back at Elliot and her bike, canteen in hand.

"Ready to move again?"

James shot Evaline a small smile and a nod.

"Yeah. Ready."

He was walking along the side of a small mountain. When glancing up, he could see that it wasn't quite a mountain, but rolling hills. But the hills were enormous, so it may as well have been considered a series of small mountains.

He was walking along a muddy path, the water splashing against his boots. It didn't seem like his boots, or even a man's boot.

Was this another undone timeline? Another memory related to that?

He was sure he was looking through a woman's eyes. Was it Evaline?

It was fairly uneventful for ten minutes. Just walking in peace on a small hike by himself, hearing the birds chirp in the distance as they flew overhead.

And then even more birds sprung out of the trees below him, because there was suddenly a loud explosion along the hilly mountain he was walking along. He stopped in his place and looked up at the source of the noise as he instinctfully placed his hands over his ears, trying to stop the incessant ringing after the noise boomed through his skull.

And when he looked up at the top of the hilly mountain, he saw a big part of it crashing and tumbling down. It was a mudslide.

He couldn't quite feel the panic, but he heard it in his breaths and his sudden sprint away. He heard the woman's panicked breaths as she ran for her life.

But it was too late. She let out a cry as the mudslide engulfed him, and the dream was over.

James woke up with a start, sitting up quickly before he could even process what he'd just seen. He could feel himself breathing quickly, like the panic from the person's memory had carried over to him, but only when he woke up.

It was dark, but the fire was still going, lighting up the small circle around them.

"Are you okay?" he heard Evaline say across the fire, looking at him with concern in her eyes. She was sitting down cross-legged, leaning back on her arms.

James slowly took control of his breaths, trying to get them to slow.

"Yes," he said breathily. "I saw another memory I think. I don't know if it was you. Someone running from a mudslide. Getting swept up in it."

Evaline stared at him for a moment. "Did... you see anything else?" she asked.

"There was an explosion," he said. "And my - her ears started ringing. Then the mudslide started."

Evaline was quiet for another moment, but then a small, empty laugh escaped her throat as she sat up straight, looking into the fire.

"That sounds like something I've been through before," she said blankly. "I don't understand why you're seeing all this."

James stared at her for a moment, but then looked out into the forest.

"Neither do I," he said quietly, steadying his breathing more. Slowly. His heart was still racing.

"I'm sorry that you got to see that," she said with the same tone. "I wish you didn't have to experience these dreams."

"It's... not as bad as some of the other ones I had," James said. "With the sleeping pills. They've calmed down a lot, honestly. Which I'm thankful for."

"I just wish you had normal dreams," Evaline clarified. "And not have the burden of seeing any of the undone memories as well as its associated effects."

James nodded slightly.

"I don't like it either," he said. "But... I'm beginning to think I'm going to need to learn to adapt sooner rather than later. I don't feel like this-- if we want to call it an ability, or a power, or some side-effect of I-don't-know-what -- it's not going to go away any time soon."

"You're right," she said after a long pause and a sigh. "The sooner you can get a grip on this, the better. Do you feel like you have any control?"

James glanced up at her.

"Sometimes," he said softly. "Sometimes I'm able to focus in on a certain area. Kind of like I'm limiting myself. To only see memories within a certain distance from me. I don't know if that makes much sense. It's more of a... a feeling, really."

Evaline nodded slowly, looking to be in thought. "Okay," she said. "So you can focus by proximity."

"There have been times, though," he said. "Where a memory is so... it's like it's so loud that I can't ignore it. Like it's screaming to be seen."

"Is that also proximity-based?" she asked. "Maybe you just have to get farther away from the source."

"That's possible," James thought aloud. "I just... have no idea where the sources are, most of the time. The ones that have been on the farm, make sense. But like -- I don't know where that explosion was."

There was another long pause.

"You dreamed... of undone memories on your farm?" she asked slowly.

"Y....yes?" he said just as slowly.

She sat up a little straighter. Slowly.

"Whose... memories have you been seeing?" she asked.

James's shoulders slouched a little as he looked away.

"The only ones I've been able to recognize are yours. At the beginning... I don't know. It felt like maybe there were voices but... it was like it was far away, and everything was so fuzzy and incomprehensible I couldn't make it out."

"If this power is based on proximity," Evaline began slowly, "then it makes sense why you'd only recognize mine. As far as I know, I'm the only time traveler this far out. The voices you might be hearing may come from the sectors, where everyone else with time powers lives. That would be my guess."

"I guess... that would make sense," James said softly. "But I don't want to see their memories either."

"I don't want you to see my memories," she snapped back.

James looked up at her.

"I don't want to see yours either," he said quickly. He thought he'd told her that before. "I don't want to see anyone's memories. But... now I do, and I don't know if I can just... stop it. I've tried blocking them out before, but it feels like they just keep wriggling into my brain."

Evaline sat up straight, wringing her hands in front of her as she bunched her brows together while staring intensely into the fire like she was fighting an internal battle in her head.

"It's a curse," she said lowly after a while. "It's a curse you don't deserve, and I hate that you have to live with it."

She paused to sigh deeply.

"Are they better, at least?" she asked. "Better than the... nightmares?"

James paused to think.

"It has been better," he said, and paused before adding. "I think... actually, I haven't had the memories turn into nightmares. Things do feel... clearer, I think. The line between what's real and what's not is becoming less blurred."

He was really beginning to wonder if the sleeping pills were just for sleep.

"I wonder if the change is related to the pills," Evaline also wondered out loud.

"Well... there was a short period of time where I did dream of undone memories before I was given the pills," James said. "And at that time, I was still trying to figure out what exactly was going on and what I was seeing, but-- I don't think there were nightmares, or even false-awakenings, really. That was only when I was on the medication," he said, continuing to think out loud with her.

"It could be the medication, then," Evaline said. "But I think we should also consider other possibilities as well. Was your state of mind affected while you had nightmares? It could be that the nightmares affected your state of mind instead of the other way around, but it could still be related."

"I don't know if it's that cut and dry," James said quietly. "I... I don't think my head was in a great place in--"

He stopped, looking away and letting out a sigh.

"In general, he said. When I got here. To earth."

He decided to leave it at that. He didn't really want to look at Evaline.

"I know," she said quietly, and didn't immediately add anything more.

"The nightmares made it worse, though," James said. "I'll say that."

"Do you think..." Evaline began, still looking focused while staring into the fire. "Do you think that, even without the medication, you'd still feel... or do... I mean, feel the same. And have trouble sleeping, and be bothered." She sighed. "I don't know if that makes much sense."

"I've had trouble sleeping for years," he said. "That much isn't new."

"Have you ever had any vivid dreams like that before, though?"

"Nothing that felt that real," he said.

Evaline took a deep breath. "Alright... Then we can assume that the medication played a heavy influence on your nightmares. But if you ever dream of anything like that again, can you tell me? I don't want you to just... keep it in like you did in Terra."

James slowly looked up at her.

"Sure," he said softly. "I'll let you know."

"Thanks," she said, mirroring his tone. "But the nightmares are distinct from the undone memories, right? You've mentioned that they blur the lines of fiction and reality. Would you be able to differntiate between a nightmare and an undone memory?"

"I think the clearest distinction is that the undone memories have nothing to do with me. When attention turns to me myself as a person, or I guess, things from my own past start leaking in... that's when I would say I know it's not a memory of someone else anymore. Then, it's a nightmare," he said.

It had been almost a week since he'd had one, and though he could still remember many of the nightmares vividly, he was a little more removed from it, and able to think about it critically now that he wasn't... delirious.

"Your past nightmares," Evaline began. "Do they still keep you up at night?"

"You mean, like... regular nightmares?" James asked, looking over at her.

"The ones you had when you were medicated," Evaline replied, catching his gaze.

"Oh," James said softly, quickly darting his eyes to the side.

"I... well..." he trailed off for a few short seconds, before he sighed and looked to the ground. "I suppose so. There are some things - sensations, mostly, I think - that it's like... like my body remembers them like they were real, even though they weren't."

"Like when you dreamed that I hurt you," she said with a calm voice.

James swallowed.

"Yes," he said steadily. "That's one of them."

Evaline was quiet for a moment. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

James's eyes flicked up to Evaline. He didn't feel paranoid like he did a week ago, but it still wasn't an easy thing to talk about. The images were still vivid in his head when he recalled them, and it wasn't pretty. But he didn't know if Evaline would somehow feel guilty for something she didn't even do -- or if she would assume he let that change the way he looked at her now.

"It's very..." he cleared his throat. "Dramatic."

That wasn't the right word. He just needed to preface the dream with something.

"It was a nightmare," she said. "They're all needlessly dramatic in harmful ways." She sighed. "I'm just wary... since I don't want you to associate that nightmare with me. I would never hurt you."

James looked up at her and kept his eyes on her this time.

"I know that," he said softly. "I know it wasn't really you."

"It still bothers you," she commented, eyes still on his, like she was trying to study him. "I can tell."

James looked away again, into the fire, and he furrowed his brows.

"It was... very painful," he said. "It's hard to forget."

Evaline took a slow and controlled deep breath in and out. "Okay," she said. "You don't have to go into the details. But I'm afraid that you'll again look at me the same way you did when you woke up the last night in Terra."

"I can tell you," James finally managed to get out. "I just want you to know that I know it wasn't you. When I woke up from that dream in Terra I thought I was still dreaming, but I know that I wasn't now. Okay?"

She nodded, looking extra attentive. "Okay. I'm listening, and I understand."

James nodded a little, and then took a deep breath.

"The dream started as an undone memory from Nye," he said. "I knew it because I'd seen it before, but that was five years ago. It was one of the first things you'd undone - when we were around the campfire."

He paused for just a second to look up at her, to guage if this was even something she wanted to hear, or if she wanted to shut him down again. She looked almost like she was confused - like she didn't remember what he was talking about.

"You were... crying," he said. "And I was hugging you."

"Why was I crying?" she asked, sounding more curious than wary.

"If I remember correctly," he said slowly. "I think it was because you had just told me about the first thing you undid, which was the first time Butch attacked us. And you mentioned the loss of one of your friends. And I think it was the first time you told me about being able to do that. With your power. I was just... comforting you. Or trying to."

Evaline had failed early on to keep eye contact as she stared back at the fire with a faraway look. "I see," she simply said.

James took that as his cue to keep going.

"The dream seemed pretty normal - as in, it was just the memory playing out," he said, deliberately steadying his nerves so he could just say it without hesitation. "But then you brought your hands to my chest, and you started scratching and digging in. It was almost like your hands were knives, and they just... pierced right through. But then it was like the knives grew legs, and arms, and spread like veins all throughout my body, and it was just..."

He stared off into the space in front of him blankly. It was impossible not to relive it.

"And then it all just came bursting out of my back, and... I thought I'd died."

Another pause.

"Well, I should've been dead. Logically."

There was a long pause, but then Evaline started to crawl around the fire so she could sit next to him. She took a deep breath before speaking.

"Can I put my hands on your chest for a second?" she asked out of the blue.

James knew there was no reason to be afraid, but his heart seemed to start speeding up at the thought.

He knew this was different. For one, Evaline was asking to touch him, which he realized she'd never done in his dreams. And two, he knew he could say no, and she would listen. But this wasn't just about making him comfortable.

Evaline wanted to make a point that he could trust her, and he wanted her to know that he did.

Even if he was scared.

He slowly turned to her so that he faced her and nodded.

Slowly, she lifted one hand and then set it on the middle of his chest. Then she lifted her other hand and set it on the other side.

Over his heart.

He didn't know if that was deliberate or not, and he wasn't sure if she was able to feel his heart pounding against his chest.

Still, she kept her gaze on her hands for a few seconds before dropping her touch and stare.

"See?" she said with a faint smile as she met his eyes for a second before facing back towards the fire. "I don't have knife hands."

James took in a deep breath and nodded again.

"Just normal hands," he said softly.

"That's right," she said just as soft. "Normal hands that wouldn't hurt you."

He nodded one more time before turning back towards the fire, putting his hands in his lap. He pulled his legs up towards his chest so he could lean on them with his arms.

"Did you have any other nightmares about me?" she asked.

James didn't looke over at her, but he answered.

"Yes," he said quietly.

"Do you want to talk about them as well?" she asked gently.

"I... I don't know. The -- the hands ripping through my chest was a recurring theme," he said softly.

"You've dreamed of it multiple times?" Evaline said, almost sounding surprised.

"It happened that night that you were there," he said. "In Terra. When I woke up."

Evaline hummed lowly as she leaned forward, squinting into the fire.

"Why do you think it's a recurring theme?" she asked, concern in her voice.

That was the part James had deliberately been avoiding. He didn't want to say it directly, because he knew she didn't want to talk about it directly, but...

"The first time it happened in the dream, before you reached into my chest, you said: 'You ripped my heart out, and now it's my turn to return the favor,'" he said stiffly.

Evaline was still for some moments, not reacting or moving as she still leaned forward, her eyes reflecting the movement of the fire.

"This is your dream, so I think I should ask you," she finally said. "But I take it that you're interpreting that to be more than a literal phrase?"

"I know what it means metaphorically," James said. "So, yes."

"And do you think..." She paused to sigh. "Do you think that's why it's a recurring dream?"

"...Probably," James said quietly.

Neither of them were looking at each other at this point.

"I disagree with what nightmare me said," Evaline said after the silence between them sat still for too long, but she didn't elaborate any further.

James wasn't sure if he should ask questions. Of course he wanted to, but he was afraid of replaying the last he tried to ask her about what she felt.

"That's... good to hear," he said quietly in reply.

"'You ripped my heart out,'" she quoted in a mocking voice. "That's not even true or remotely anything close to what I'd even say. I'm disappointed in nightmare me."

James looked over at her and couldn't help but let out a short, breathy laugh.

"I'll tell her that if I ever see her again, I guess. But I hope I don't," he said.

"You can do better than that," she said with an edge of playfulness in her voice, although she still sat still. "If you see her again, call her out, kick her down, and tell her that's from the real Evaline."

"I'll make sure to double check it's a dream first before I resort to violence," James said with a similar tone.

Evaline suddenly turned to him with an unamused expression. "I want you to try to hit me," she said. "Right now."

James stared at her in surprise at first, but then confusion.

"What?" he said. "I'm not going to punch you Evaline."

Evaline stared at him back for a few seconds, but then smiled and let out a breathy laugh. "Yeah," she said. "I know. And if I spend the next five minutes begging you to hit me, you'll eventually succumb. But you still wouldn't do it. All you would do is tap my shoulder with your fist." She paused for a moment. "I hope you dream that."

James stared at her as her words registered.

"All of that... just to prove that you can undo time?" James said with a slight smile. "I already know you can do that, Evaline."

"I'm just trying to prove the point that you can't hurt me," she said innocently. "Not that you would, anyways. The shoulder tap was not very effective."

"I would rather not dream of hurting you anyways," he countered. "So I'm glad it wasn't."

Evaline looked up at him as a small smile tugged her lips. "Looks like you have nothing to worry about, then," she said. "You've got plenty of reality checks to go through before resorting to violence."

James laughed lightly.

"That's what I said," he said with a smile as he shook his head a little.

"Well, then I just proved your point," she said stubbornly.

James rolled his eyes, still smiling. "Okay," he said teasingly. "You proved your point."

Evaline smiled back and lingered her gaze on him for a moment before a small silence passed, and they both stared at the fire in front of them.

"Going back to my first point though," she said. "Let me know if you dream anything concerning. I want to help."

Anything concerning was a large umbrella that a lot of things could fit under, but James knew Evaline was talking more about nightmares than memories, so he nodded in agreement.

"Okay. I will," he said again.

"Good," she said, seemingly satisfied since she didn't push the topic any further.

Their conversation lulled naturally as the two of them sat beside each other, looking at the crackling fire and the small embers that would rise into the air and fizzle out. The silence was comfortable between the two of them, and James wanted to appreciate this moment for what it was: likely a small pocket of peace before the trouble he knew would come on their journey to help Elise find Elias. James was in no hurry to break the silence, but as the two of them sat in the quiet, he found his mind drifting, thinking back on their previous converation.

It seemed like the sleeping pill played a large role in making his dreams more vivid, uncontrollable, and tumultuous. Ever since he'd stopped taking the medicine, he felt his head was clearer, and deciphering reality from dream was getting easier. It was especially clear when he was reliving a memory that was undone, because he was never in his own body for it - with the exception of one or two memories where he was involved back on the farm.

The worry was that neither of them knew Oliver's motives. Evaline was convinced that Oliver saw James as a threat because of their similar powers, and James didn't know if Oliver was looking for ways to disable James's powers, control him (like Oliver presumably tried to do for Evaline), make him go insane to the point where his powers were moot, or perhaps...

James hummed softly out loud.

"This is only conjecture," he prefaced. "But... Elise mentioned a medical procedure that could dampen someone's powers to make them more tame. If such a procedure were to be done on someone whose powers were at what could be considered an average level, I wonder if it could remove them completely."

He paused, but only for a split second.

"I only bring that up not because I'd want that done -- but I was wondering if Oliver would be aware that such technology exists. If I'm a threat to him, I guess I'm just... wondering if he would want to take away my powers entirely. Since you said he's not a killer."

"He would never do anything like that," Evaline said without hesitation. "To him, that's taking away your purpose. Weakening an asset."

"So you think he'd want to use me as an asset, then, for whatever reasons he has in mind," he deduced aloud.

"I don't want to find out what type of asset you'd be," she said instead of directly answering. "That's why we're running."

"If it's digging up people's dirt," James said. "He'd have to pry that from my--"

He stopped there, making a face at himself for the joke he was about to make.

"Ehhhhhh," he said, unable to think of a way to end that sentence. "Let's just say I wouldn't tell him anything no matter what. Out of pure spite."

"You underestimate how manipulative other time travelers are," Evaline said, voice serious. "You're used to people thinking in the present. Oliver and his entire family are always five steps ahead. It's not as simple as just 'I refuse to say anything' -- because they're able to leverage things against you. Things you didn't think would be possible, because no one could possibly know. But they do know. So you need to be careful. It's best to just stay away."

James was not new to being blackmailed, manipulated, or having precious things (and people) being used as leverage against him, but he understood Evaline's warning.

"I do like our plan," James said not-quite-defensively. "I'm just saying that Oliver could undo time as many times as he'd want, and I'd punch him every single time."

"Only on other time travelers," she corrected, glossing over his joke "Or if he was in imminent danger. So, I guess he sees you as a threat too because of that."

James blinked, glancing over at Evaline in confusion.

"Wait. Explain that," he said. "Only other... what?"

Evaline sighed, looking and sounding more tired. She probably didn't want to talk about this, but she didn't seem to shut him down. Not yet, anyways.

"He and his family keep the other skilled time travelers in check," she began. "But that's hard to do if we keep going back and undo whatever consequence they want to bestow upon us if we break a rule. So that means... they could stop us from going back. If he's involved, I can't go back in time. He's able to stop it somehow. That's how it works for me, that's how it works for everyone else. Do you understand now?"

"So his power also involves being able to nullify other time traveller's powers when they want to go back," James said, making sure he had it right.

"Yes," she said. "His power is only tailored for time travelers. But it still overpowers us."

"And he has to be close to you to do that, which is why we're running," James continued.

"I'm glad you understand," she said, but there was rising annoyance in her voice.

"Sorry it's just... taking me a minute to understand everything," he said.

Evaline sighed again as she glanced at him. It looked like she was taking a moment to collect herself.

"I understand," she said. "You should know. And I should answer your questions. I just don't... really like talking about him, or any other time travelers. Other people like me."

"Understandable," James said with a gentler tone. "It doesn't sound like they're very kind people, so I imagine they're not nice to think about."

Among other reasons - like her history with them, which he wasn't going to bring up at the moment.

"That's putting it nicely," she said, and didn't elaborate anymore.

So, it was a massive understatement. He figured as much when he'd said it.

He let another small silence pass before breaking it.

"You know," he said, deciding to change the topic. "Not all of the dreams were bad, really. Some of them were just weird. Like... I had one dream where Tula knew this other woman I used to know named Rita, and they were friends for some reason. It was strange seeing someone from Nye and someone from Earth interacting. Now that I think back on it, it's... surreal."

Evaline hummed in thought and seemed to relax a bit from the topic change. "Do you think they'd actually be friends if they were from the same world?"

James pursed his lips to the side and hummed.

"Maybe," he said. "They do have... some similarities, I guess. Temperament. I don't know if Tula would be the criminal type, though."

Evaline let out a huff of air. "Tula was also involved in the war. I think that technically makes her a criminal."

"Fair," James said. "But rebelling against a government is a little different than thievery and gang violence."

"Who knows?" Evaline said with a shrug. "Maybe on Nye, Tula would've been part of the gang as well."

"Well, I mean, she was," James said. "In the dream, anyways."

"You dreamed of them committing crimes together?"

James squinted into the flames.

"Not exactly," James said slowly. "In the dream, uh, they were both... secretly conspiring against me for reasons I never found out, because, you know. Dreams are sometimes incomplete in terms of 'plot.'"

"I understand," Evaline said with a nod. "It doesn't even have to be related to the medication. It's normal to dream about people you know and sometimes it makes no sense, even across worlds. I've had a similar experience when I woke up on Earth again. Like --"

She then suddenly stopped talking. James thought she was pausing to reframe her thoughts, but it seemed that she just shut up completely as she squinted into the fire, biting her lip.

James waited a few short seconds before clearing his throat.

"I assume you dreamed of people you met from your time on Nye?" he asked.

"Like I said, it's normal to dream about people you know," Evaline said too quickly in response.

People you know. James figured that meant she'd dreamed about him, but was too embarassed to say - or didn't want to admit for other reasons he didn't really want to think about.

"Even if you don't know them all that well, apparently," he said with a small sigh, dragging the topic away from him and Evaline again. "I've only really spoken to Tula, like... well, maybe five times at most."

"Right," Evaline continued on. "Dreams are funny like that. Brains, subconsciousness -- they pick up on the smallest details like that. Even if you meet them only a few times. Dreams sometimes prefer that instead of people you know well..."

James found his brain drifting to the very uncomfortable dream where Rita and Tula made a reappearance as Evaline went on about how dreams are odd. He didn't like that the thought intruded upon his mind without announcement, but it made sense. He was already thinking about them, and the dream (or maybe it was a hallucination, at that point he wasn't sure) was even more vivid than the one he'd told Evaline.

He just wished it wasn't taking up space in his brain at all.

He didn't want to think about Tula. Or about Rita that much either, because that just make him think about the gang...

He shook himself out of the train of thought, clueing back in at the end of Evaline's long thought.

"... So that's why I don't think it's that strange, I guess, or if you're listening to me at all, so I'm just going to stop talking now," she finished.

James shook his head a little and looked over at her with eyes slightly widened.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I just... sorry. I was thinking of another dream."

"That's okay, I didn't -- I didn't really say anything important," she said, then quickly went on. "What other dream?"

James regretted everything. Bringing up the Tula and Rita dream in the first place.

"Just... another dream with Tula. It was... uncomfortable," he said with a small clearing of his throat.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Evaline asked with sudden gentleness.

"It was... during my overdose," he said. It felt strange to say that out loud, but he decided to quickly move past it. "I don't know how much of it was dream or hallucination or any of that. But it was like reality and everything else was overlapping. I couldn't really -- um --"

He laughed nervously, a little too loudly. He didn't know how to just talk about it without pretending like it wasn't as bad as it sounded. He had to laugh, because it didn't make sense not to.

"I couldn't really move with coordination. There -- there was a lot of uh, side-effects. I was kind of just--"

He laughed again, but it was still nervous. He spit the next part out very quickly.

"All that happened was that Tula got very uncomfortably close and I'm just glad that I don't think it was real. I mean, it wasn't. Wasn't real."

He could feel Evaline's eyes on him, her shoulders turned to face him so that she could show that she was listening patiently.

"That sounds like more than just mild discomfort," she said gently. "Thank you for telling me. It can't be easy to think back on it."

"Yeah," James said, still a little too quickly.

"On the bright side," she added. "You won't be seeing her again."

"Yes," James said. "That's... good, at least."

"Yeah," she agreed. "No more flowers and unconsenting kisses."

James nodded.

"Yes," he said, not sure how to change the topic again without it being awkward. But then again, he already felt awkward.

"Is there... any other dream you want to talk about?" Evaline asked, like she had read his mind about a topic change.

The only other one that came to mind was the one of his mother telling him she wished he'd never been born, and the dreams with... Carter.

"Ah," he said softly. He let out a small laugh as the realization came slowly. "You know, before I had any dreams of you ripping my heart out, I actually dreamed of Carter stabbing me in the heart first."

She tilted her head with a raised brow. "I hope those dreams weren't related to one another," she said.

James slowly looked over at her, not sure what she meant by that.

"They... weren't," he said, but his memory felt fuzzy. He looked off into the distance with his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to remember. "I don't... yeah, they weren't. In the case with Carter, his reasons were different."

James's eyes flicked over to Evaline, but then he looked back into the fire.

"It was assisted suicide," he said. "Or, I suppose a better way to put it was... a mercy kill. Or, that was how he framed it. In the dream."

"That sounds awful," Evaline said softly after a brief hesitation.

James tried to figure out how to put his thoughts into words, but there was a different kind of pain associated with Carter. It had been six years, now, since he'd seen him. Since they'd betrayed one another, and Carter showed his true colors. James had many opportunities in the past few years to think back on their friendship, and he realized there were a lot of things Carter did that James was completely unaware of back then. He'd been manipulated without knowing it many times, and James had made intentional decisions to pay more attention to the signs now.

It didn't help that he completely missed them with Oliver. It also didn't help that he didn't really care at that point if he was being manipulate or not because he quietly decided in his heart that it didn't matter that much if he wasn't going to be around to be manipulated much longer.

It was still a feeling that resurfaced often, and James wasn't sure how long it would take for it to go away, or if it ever would. He'd convinced himself at some point that he could endure anything not because life was worth living, but because his life didn't really matter in the end, so why did it matter what he went through?

Of course, things felt a little different with a friend around that he knew cared. But it didn't change the fact that the feelings were still there. They were just a little quieter, now.

He was afraid that something might happen to make them come screaming back again. Especially now that he knew Evaline would be left alone to... deal with what happened after. Hypothetically.

He didn't want to think about that.

He wasn't sure how long of a pause passed before he spoke again, but Evaline seemed to be patient to wait.

"It was strange," he said softly. "Seeing him again in the guise of a friend. It was like... maybe my mind wanted to use a familiar face to reinforce what I was already feeling, but in the worst way. Because, for a moment, I think I really did believe that he was the only real friend I've had because he would be willing to do for me what I was afraid to do to myself."

"I don't think that makes him a real friend," Evaline said. "I think that makes him a false friend. A real friend would never hurt you, even if you want them to."

James looked over to Evaline slowly, and small, soft smile grew on his face.

"I know," he said. "That's why I wouldn't punch you."

Evaline faintly returned the smile before tearing her gaze away. "Looks like you passed my true friend test," she said nonchalantly. "Congratulations."

James still watched her for a moment, smiling.

"And you passed mine," he said.

"By not punching you?"

"No," James said with a smirk. "By proving I can trust you. You know... by not ripping my heart out."

"Don't worry," she said as she extended her palm out in front of her face to inspect it. "My fingernails aren't that sharp."

"I don't think they need to be," James said casually.

She glanced over at him. "Why do you say that?" she asked in the same casual tone.

"I don't know," he said, still talking casually. "I think if you really wanted my heart, all you'd have to do is ask."

At his last few words, he looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

He noticed that she was staring at him with her hand still in front of her face. And although the warm glow of the fire danced across her face, James had stolen enough glances to know that the fire's glow couldn't have been the reason she was redder than normal. She was blushing.

She quickly rubbed her cheek with the hand in front of her and then started to crawl back over to the other side of the fire where she set her blanket down.

"I'm -- I'm thinking you're tired, so I'm going to sleep now," she said quickly.

That logic didn't make sense. If he was tired, wouldn't she want him to go to sleep?

But he knew she was only saying something as a quick excuse to go to bed and end the conversation.

"Okay," he said simply. "Get some rest."

Evaline seemed to get comfortable in the space in front of the fire far too quickly, basically laying down and curling up with the blanket as she hid her face away from him.

"Thanks, and, um..." she began as she squirmed under the blanket a little before staying still. "...Thanks."

"No problem," James said.

He knew Evaline was probably uncomfortable. He probably shouldn't have said what he said, but he did mean it.

He let the silence that followed stretch out a little longer before he said goodnight, and Evaline echoed back quietly, and that was the end of it.

Evaline had to adapt to their new routine. She was used to days outside by herself, retaining the calm peace of mind she found by various exercises and scenic nature visits. It was just her and Ellie for years, and it was a very predictable life. She had been skating by fairly uneventfully.

And of course, that all changed when James returned. Now life was eventful and unpredictable, and it made her anxious. She hated being anxious. She hated that she hated it.

Meditation, yoga, and runs helped calm her down, but they couldn't afford to do that. Both Evaline and James couldn't just do things for leisure while they were on a time-sensitive mission run to the city so they could catch up to the others in time and also get further away from Oliver. There was no time for meditating or stretching or relaxing.

She did try to meditate in the night while James was sleeping, but she couldn't do it because she had to keep watch. She had to focus, and that was why she was unable to slip back into a familiar, peaceful state of mind.

At least, that was what she told herself. A small part of her wondered if she was distracted for the wrong reasons. But she didn't want to think about that.

And she especially didn't want to think about it when the days rolled by and she was getting progressively more anxious, and it was seeping into how she was treating James. The anxiety manifested itself into impatience and irritation over the smallest details, and she found herself only half-aware that she was saying insensitive comments and dismissive overall.

This didn't seem to affect James for some reason, and Evaline wasn't sure if this was a good or bad thing. Good because his patience was (somehow) still nearly infinite enough to handle her, and bad because it felt like he was almost reinforcing that this behavior was okay. And she wasn't sure if it was okay, especially since he needed the patience more than her.

She wondered how long it would be before he'd grow annoyed over her annoyance. But she was quick to adapt and learn if or when that happens.

Over the next several days, they both followed the winding river as they rode, keeping a safe distance away from the water to avoid falling. They woke up, chatted, ate, made distance, took a break, made more distance, camped for the night, chat some more, and then slept.

That was the new normal, and it would be the new normal for months. Right? Would anything change?

They were two days away from the City of Angels, and Evaline was getting antsy. She wasn't sure she was prepared to enter another civilization, nevertheless James. Was this how he felt when they went to the first town in Nye together?

She fell silent that night, thinking of a plan and not much in a mood to talk. James seemed to pick up on this and played his harmonica to fill the silence.



It was kind of... nice, actually. His songs were strangely soothing and kept her distracted from intrusive thoughts. There was also overall something comical about watching a grown man play a harmonica while a baby chicken rested on his shoulder.

Still, Evaline went to bed a bit restless, and she felt cranky the next morning. Cranky, stressed, and worried. She tried not to show it too much since she didn't want to worry James, but it made her more jumpy. And she couldn't do anything about that.

So when they were walking through tall grass that Elliot began munching on, Evaline couldn't help but let out a panicked screech as she felt a snake wrap around her foot.

She flailed backwards and dropped to her butt as anxiety shot through her veins and she swiped at her foot to slap the snake away, but then she realized there was nothing there.

It was just grass. Simply grass. No snake. She was okay. They were okay.

James had hurried to her side, scanning the grass around her before he offered her a hand to help her up.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"...Yeah," she said as she stared at his hand, but then decided to get up on her feet by herself.

She didn't want to admit that she needed help from being attacked by grass. She could get up by herself perfectly fine.

"I'm fine," she mumbled as she brushed off the dirt on her pants.

"Was something in the grass?" James asked, scanning it again.

"No," Evaline answered, and left it at that.

James nodded. "Ah," he said softly. He reached out and patted Evaline on the shoulder. Wordlessly, he seemed to give her a quick, soft expression of understanding before he started walking again.

"What?" she blurted out as she stared at him walking away. "Why did you give me that look?"

James looked back at her over his shoulder, and it looked like the expression was still lingering.

"I just... I get it," he said. "It's okay. I'm glad you're okay."

Evaline narrowed her eyes at him but then briskly walked up to catch up to him, matching his pace. "Get what?" she persisted.

"Stress," he said simply.

Evaline knew he was right. She was stressed, but she didn't want to be. It meant she had failed to control it, and it meant that James would want to leave her with less responsibility during their travels. She didn't want either of those things, so the next words out of her mouth were a blatant lie.

"I'm not stressed," she said stubbornly, daring him to challenge it.

"And I'm not sleep deprived," he said, giving her a brief, almost teasing look, then flicking his eyes away.

"One sounds worse than the other," she said blankly, even though she wasn't even sure herself which one was worse, exactly.

"It's not a competition," James replied plainly.

"I'm not making it into one," she said. "I'm just stating an opinion."

"Which in my opinion is wrong," he said back.

"Your opinion is that you think my opinion is wrong?" she asked defensively.

"Do you want me to explain it?" James asked, looking at her again with that same teasing look.

"Yes. No. I don't know." Evaline sighed, and a groan found its way out of her throat. "Do whatever you want."

"All I'm trying to say is it's both okay and completely understandable that you're stressed," he said gently. "We're on the run. It would be weird if you weren't."

"I'm on the run for you," she said loudly with offense laced in her voice. "How are you not stressed?"

"I think I've grown used to this kind of stress to the point where I don't really show it anymore," he said neutrally. "It doesn't mean I'm not still worried about things."

"Well, what are you worried about then?"

James glanced at Evaline again, but he didn't reply right away.

"I don't like that you seem so calm over this," Evaline continued in the short silence, losing her filter. "It's like you don't even care what happens."

"I think my biggest worry is Oliver finding us," James said, still in a neutral, but serious tone. "And using you as leverage against me. What are you worried about?" he asked.

That was what he was worried about? Not the information, or his abilities, or anything else that could paint him as a threat or asset?

It took several seconds for her to even think of a proper reply to his question.

"A lot of things," she said, knowing she was being vague. "Our survival, mostly."

"In the ungoverned lands?" James asked. "Or just... in general?"

"In general, obviously," she said with a scoff. "Why would it matter where we survive? We just have to survive."

"Fair," James said.

"Why is your biggest worry of Oliver using me as leverage against you?" she immediately asked. "That seems like the least of what should be your worries."

"I just don't want you getting hurt is all," was James's simple reply.

"I don't want you getting hurt!" Evaline snapped back.

She knew she was projecting her own worries onto him right now in a harmful way. She knew that. But it bothered her. This was all for him and he was worried about her. Why couldn't he just worry about himself?

James didn't look over at her, and instead looked ahead as they kept walking.

"I know," he said. "But I guess... I just feel like, if I survived all of the hell I've already been through, then whatever Oliver or the ungoverned lands might have in store, I'll make it out okay."

"Quit thinking like that," she barked. "You're making me worry more because it's like I have to take care of you more. Stop being so careless."

James glanced over at her, but his expression was hard to read.

"I am intentionally trying not to be careless," he said. "But I have to admit, it's not an easy tendency to undo in one day. I don't want you to feel like you have to baby me, but I would also like you to understand that I am trying, even if it's not perfect yet."

With each passing word, Evaline realized more and more that she was being incredibly insensitive. James needed patience. He needed someone who wasn't being snippy and demanding. It wasn't like either of them asked to be with each other right now, but she could at least try to be a better person.

For James. Just for James.

"I'm sorry," she said after taking a few deep breaths to calm herself. "You're right. I'm stressed. I say things I don't mean when I'm stressed. I know you're trying to take better care of yourself, and I'm not helping when I'm like this. I just -- I worry. I just want you to be okay."

"I know," James said gently. "I know you didn't mean it, and I forgive you. But... in an effort to keep my word, I do have to admit--" James looked off to the side, "That did hurt."

And she had to admit that it hurt knowing that she had again hurt him. Sometimes she couldn't tell if she was doing this on purpose or by accident.

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely, finally looking up to him to show that she meant it. "I try not to be like this. But it's just..."

She briefly thought back on their discussion nearly a week ago about how all time travelers were manipulative and not to be trusted. She only knew that because she used to be one of them. In a way, she still was.

No. She still was.

"Habit," she finished quietly.

"I forgive you," he said again, looking back to her with sincerity.

"I don't like that I hurt you," she persisted anyways, because it was the truth.

"I think that's a good thing," James said softly. "Habits can be broken."

That was what she told herself the last five years. She was starting to think the process was more complicated than just "breaking."

"I guess," she said, not really wanting to get into it.

The conversation lulled to a stop, but it hung in the air. At least, it did for Evaline. James looked like he didn't want to push the topic, and she was holding back her tongue. She didn't want to accidentally hurt him again.

Why did she always end up hurting him?

Elliot seemed to be ready to travel again, so they wordlessly traveled for the rest of the night, delving away from the river and heading deeper into the woods. When nightfall came, they stopped at a clearing where the trees seemed to twist away from each other, like it was inviting them in. James thought nothing of it as he started to make a campfire, but Evaline couldn't help but feel nervous just from how odd the trees were becoming.

They were getting closer to the border of the safe zone. Tomorrow, they'd enter the City of Angels. After that, they'd be in the pure ungoverned lands, unconfined by the safety of the imaginary zone that separated beast from man, peace from violence, nature from man-made mutations. It was hard enough for her to travel through the lands by herself five years ago, and it was going to be even more difficult with someone else. With James.

Not only that, but it was now December. For now they were fine with layered clothes and a fire, but there were bound to be nights where they may wake up freezing with frost on the ground, and it would be difficult to find food. Or they would go to sleep without the warmth of the fire, and be freezing for nights on end. It was going to be worse in the desert when the nights were especially cold.

She was supposed to go on this trip by herself, but obviously she couldn't just leave him. Not after everything he had confessed to her, namely his instability and lack of happiness, which she did not realize until she had committed to the plan of running away. At least, partially committed. She had to reshuffle her priorities when she forced James into the picture. Into her future.

Evaline only hoped that they would be okay. There were inevitable dangers that laid ahead of them, and she had to tell herself that she could undo it if things got too hard. She had more control compared to five years ago. She could save James. She could save herself. They would be okay.

One thing at a time.

Evaline sighed, realizing too late that she looked like she wasn't open for a conversation since she was staring far too intensely into the fire, and the bottom half her head was covered as she leaned in towards her knees and set them across her arms. She slowly undid them, sitting up straight with her legs now crossed to appear more approachable.

They had a lot to talk about before tomorrow. James was giving her space, which she respected, but she knew she had to start sharing her thoughts and worries.

"Hey," she said, breaking the long silence and looking across the fire towards him. "I want to apologize for my behavior today. I'm sorry for being insensitive. You treated me with patience and kindness, which I appreciate, but I know I need to reciprocate it as well."

James looked up at her, nodding slightly.

"It's okay," James said softly. "I forgive you."

"I know that," she said, because this was the third time he had said this to her now. "But I wanted to tell you anyways."

James offered her a small smile.

"I appreciate it. Thank you," he said.

It didn't feel right to say "you're welcome" for a thank you directed towards her apology, so she decided to not comment on that and instead keep going.

"Don't stop letting me know if I say anything else that hurts you," she said. "I want you to let me know."

"Okay," James said.

And that was that. She had to hold back some comments, namely: That's it? It's that easy? but stopped the words from coming out. It was easier to change the subject at this point.

"We're going to get to the city tomorrow," Evaline said instead. "We need to prepare. This will mostly be a supply run. What other supplies come to your mind besides food?"

She watched as James's gaze seemed to fall on Elliot, who was standing calmly nearby, grazing among the grass around them.

"If it's at all possible, I would like to have a sword," he said. "If we're likely to run into fearsome beasts, it is the weapon I am most experienced with for defense."

Evaline thought this through for a moment. Swords were outdated weapons, but it wasn't impossible. Daggers were easier to obtain, and knives were even easier. Swords, on the other hand, were more niche. They'd have to look around the city for someone who had one for trade, or could even make one.

"I do plan on stocking up on some weapons," she said. "Small items like a pocket knife and daggers. Also some tactical consumables, like smoke bombs and mini grenades. I also plan on getting a gun and bullets. But a sword... it's not impossible. It would likely be harder to obtain since we'll have to look for a collector who is willing to trade, and I imagine it comes at a steep price since we'd have to trade something of equal value or worth."

James nodded.

"If we can't find any, then we'll make do," he said. "I just thought I'd mention it."

"No, we'll try to find one," she said. "This is the biggest trading hub in the safe zone. I'm sure someone collects swords. We'd probably have to look through the index for collectors, and it may take some searching, but we have time."

"Alright," James said with another small nod.

"The city may be called the City of Angels, but it's far from angelic," Evaline warned. "I wouldn't be too trusting of anyone there. People keep to themselves, and crime is high, but no one is around to enforce it. We'd have to be wary and careful."

"Sounds like just about the entirety of the Outlands," James said casually.

Evaline nodded. "Right. So you're used to it."

"Wary and careful is my middle name," James said, suppressing a smirk.

"Seems that you have a lot of middle names," Evaline said.

"And a lot of first names," James pointed out, his smirk growing.

"But one last name."

"Technically, yes, but I've told people numerous last names before as well," he said nonchalantly.

"Were they all animals as well?" Evaline asked with the beginnings of her own smirk.

"Oh, yeah," James said. "Thomas Crow, Erimor Fox, Liam Byrd, the list goes on."

Evaline hummed. "Original, I see. Sticking to the same theme across the different aliases."

"I switched it up, sometimes," he said with a shrug. "Often, people don't even ask for last names. It's more of a formality."

"You'll run into the same situation here," she said. "So, you're just James here."

She paused as she allowed a hazy memory to resurface. She hadn't talked about last names since... well, since she was in Nye, because it was no longer tradition to pass down last names.

"Unless you want to be James Horse," she said, repressing a silly smirk.

James scoffed and rolled his eyes, but he laughed.

"Please," he said with a laugh still in his voice. "That's Elliot's last name."

"That's not very original," she continued to tease.

James looked over at her and narrowed his eyes at her with a playful smile. Then, only for a second, he stuck his tongue out at her, blowing a raspberry.

It was a rare sight.

"I'd say that face was pretty original, though," she said with a smile.

James looked away, still smiling.

"That came straight out of the original archives," James quipped.

Evaline hummed playfully. "What else is in the original archives?"

James looked at her out of the corner of his eyes, still with the playful smile resting on his features.

"Well, I can't exhaust my resources now," he said like it was obvious. "I have to save these things for special occasions, you know."

"That's a shame," she said with feigned disappointment. "I thought this was a special occasion."

"It is," James said, almost defiantly. "That's why I spat at you."

Evaline firmly set her hand on her chest, pretending to be shocked. "I'm touched. Thanks."

James twirled his hand forward in a flourish and bowed his head.

"You are most welcome," he said in a more nasally, uppity voice. In some ways, it was almost like he was mocking Oliver - or at least, people who talked like him.

Evaline raised a brow as she smiled and tilted her head down, breathing out an airy laugh as she shook her head and tore her gaze away.

"Yeah, okay," she said still with the smile tugging at her lips. "But back to the city. You already know we don't have currency, but since the city's a trading hub, everyone is willing to barter for items. We obviously don't have many items to physically trade, so what kind of marketable skills do you have?"

James seemed like he was prepared for this question - as if he'd been in similar situations many times before (and he probably had).

"As far as what would be relevant here," James said. "I'm a capable carpenter, and can fix up and construction related issues. So, things like roofing repair, or putting up a new coat of paint on a house. Things like that. I couldn't do anything related to electricity, though, for obvious reasons. I could also play the harmonica for entertainment if there's need for anything like that in the city, and I could do other simple odd jobs. Like being a dishwasher in a kitchen, or other typical chores needed for keeping up establishments. I'm also a capable fighter, but I don't know if there would be any short-term need for that sort of thing."

Evaline paused to think for a moment, but then decided to say her thoughts out loud since it would help James anyways.

"I think your skills in carpentry, construction, and repairs will be useful," she said. "There are a lot of people with electric powers in the city because there's a high demand of it, but there's no power that helps with construction or repairs, so there's always a need for manual labor. I'm not sure if entertainment would be appropriate in the City of Angels, but things could have changed since last I went there. I'm unsure what establishments are there at all, or if they're even open to hire, since people keep to themselves and wouldn't openly trust a stranger. I'm not sure what fighting jobs we'd find, if any. So, basically, we'll just have to check the bulletin and filter opportunities by our skills."

"Sounds like a plan," James said with a nod.

"Just follow my lead when we get there," she said. "I am a little wary about Elliot, so one of us would have to keep a close eye on him at all times. But we'll be okay. You're with a time traveler, after all."

"I'm always keeping a close eye on Elliot," James said. "So, I've got that covered."

"Good," Evaline said with a nod. "Do you have any other questions or concerns about the city?"

James was quiet for a moment and he looked out into the forest in thought.

"If people were to ask about our powers--"

"They won't," she interrupted. "No one will care."

"Okay," he said. "But if it happens to come up for some reason. What's an easy and believable lie?"

It was a valid question, and Evaline pursed her lips in thought.

"For me, I resort to saying memory power, because that's also true, and no one would guess it's anything more than that. I could also prove it if needed. I'm hesitant to say something you couldn't easily prove. So, we could say it's something dream related."

"My power is that I can eat anything," James said jokingly.

"I already know that," Evaline dead-panned. "Since I've tasted your cooking."

James glanced at her with a smirk, but seemed to gloss over her insult and kept going.

"My power is that I see people in my dreams that exist but I've never met," he said. "How's that? Or does that still qualify as a 'time' power?"

"I don't think that'd be under the time classification," she said. "And powers mutate so often that people wouldn't question anything niche. Maybe it's useful in the sense that you can talk and question people you've never met, and maybe people who have passed as well. Seems niche but realistic enough."

"I talk to dead people in my dreams," James said slowly. "Nice."

"Seems like a step up from nightmares."

"Definitely sounds more edgy," he said, saying the last word as if he was quoting her.

Evaline smirked. "Yeah. But we'll stay away from jobs where paranoid people are trying to get rid of ghosts." She paused for a moment. "Although, it would be easy to lie about that with your fake power, since the people who pick up those jobs lie anyways."

"A city where everyone's a liar. I could fit in," he quipped.

"No, I think you'd fit in because you talk to dead people and the city is called the City of Angels," she quipped back.

James hummed and nodded, closing his eyes for a moment.

"Yes, I can see it now," he said. "So many lost souls to talk to. I will be so busy in my sleep."

"Please," Evaline said with the beginnings of a grin as she gestured to the fire in front of them. "Entertain me now with a ghost story since we're already sitting in front of the campfire, so close to the border of the city."

"Oh, you want to hear a ghost story?" James asked, tilting his head to the side with a playful smile. "I thought you'd be put off by Nye stories after the Bear of Winter tale."

"Those stories used to scare me," she said like it was obvious. "Like, twenty years ago."

"Oh, sure, sure, okay," James said with a small wave of his hand. "Well, then, I suppose I could tell you a story."

Evaline let out a small victorious smile as she leaned in, propping her chin up with her hands. "I'm listening," she said.

James met her eyes with a small smile before he straightened up and leaned in a little towards the fire, resting his forearms on his knees.

"So, you've heard of how harsh Nye winters can be. In the south, the winters in the Moonlight Kingdom are especially cruel to those who are unprepared, and especially for those outside of the cities living on their own. When I was a soldier, we would occasionally do visits to properties outside the main city walls after a heavy snow. When the snow cleared enough for us to come through with horses or on foot, we'd tread our way just to make sure that families had all they needed, that farms were still secure... things like that. This was something that was often delegated to young soldiers in small troops, since it was seen as a pretty straightforward assignment. Check in on the family, trudge through the snow, come back and write up a report, and if the family was in need, return to them with supplies or otherwise help however they needed."

He paused for a moment, briefly making eye contact with her as if to make sure she was following. She flicked her eyes between him and the fire, still giving him her undivided attention.

Evaline had asked for a simple ghost story, but James seemed to make this more... personal. She wondered how much of this was true and how much of this was made up.

"I was about fifteen at the time. Carter and I were assigned with another peer of ours. Her name was Hellen," he continued.

So this was a personal story. Or so she thought. She didn't know anything about his childhood besides that he went to military school, so she paid extra attention, especially behind the implication of being a solider at fifteen.

"There had been heavy snowfall for two nights in a row, leaving houses buried under several feet of snow. Now, for a family with healthy children, digging yourself out is manageable - since people can't stay snowed in forever - but there was a farm on the outskirts of the city where an elderly man lived alone, and we were sent to do a routine check up to make sure he was alright, and to help clear away the snow around his home," James continued.

This was a ghost story... right?

"When we made it to the farm, at first, all we could see was white. It was just snow. No fences peeking out, not even the shape of a house could be seen. But then Carter pointed out a faint trail of what looked like smoke, weakly billowing up from the snow. When we got closer, we saw that it was a chimney barely peeking out of the surface, and we knew that smoke meant a fire was going, which gave us hope. If the old man was keeping up a fire, he was inside, but trapped. Knowing that he needed to get out, and knowing that he likely was on his last supply of firewood, we started digging."

James briefly made a digging motion with his hands, as if he was clearing away imaginary snow in front of him.

"It was a long and laborious process. We had shovels, but there was so, so much snow. Even though we were wearing layers of furs and clothing, the cold was starting to numb our faces, and I could feel it piercing through my gloves. Our hands were getting stiff, and the longer we dug, the colder it got. The temperature outside was dropping, and we were afraid that the soft snow would begin to freeze over, becoming too hard to dig through easily. So we started digging faster, even though it was painful to do so. But the movement kept our blood flowing, and it kept us warm."

Evaline found herself fully invested in the story, imagining the movement of digging through snow while the panic set in. Him and Carter, trying to rescue the old man.

"Eventually, we hit a window," he said, pausing to look back up at her with his eyes alight, as if he was reliving the satisfaction of finally making visible progress in their rescue mission. "The three of us almost collided as we all dove for it, digging fiercely with our hands, pushing snow away and scraping at the layer of ice that clung to the glass, clouding the view of what was inside."

"We were relieved that the curtains seemed to be pushed away so we could see, but at the same time, we knew that was odd. Windows let the cold in, and keeping your curtains over them is common sense. It was strange, but at the time, we were more excited about peering into the house. Or at least, we were. At first. Until we looked in and only saw the foggy view of what looked like an empty room with a fiercely crackling fire."

"Normally, you'd think that's not too worrying. But this man's house was small. It was a one-room home. If we couldn't see him in the house, that meant he either wasn't home, was hiding up against the wall for some reason, or... was somewhere outside the house, buried in the snow."

"The realization dawned upon us slowly, but I wasn't ready to accept that the man might be dead. And if he were, I thought we ought to find him. Hellen argued that it would make more sense to wait until some of the snow had melted away, but we all knew that it wouldn't be warm enough for that to happen for weeks. Carter was concerned that we wouldn't find him in time to make it back to our bunker before sundown, but I convinced them that we should at least find the door and get inside so we could be sure the old man wasn't home."

"I led the way as we dug around the window to the sides, eventually finding the tip of a door, and from there, creating what was basically a slide of snow down to the bottom. I went down first, and I knocked on the door. Carter and Hellen stood behind me, and we all waited for an answer, but there was none. I glanced back at them, and then decided to try the doorknob. I was surprised to find that it was left unlocked, but it did take a firm push to shove it open, since the wood had warped from the cold."

"Carter and Hellen practically stumbled in behind me as I felt the most severe, bone-piercing chill I've ever experienced in my life."

He paused only for a second, as if for emphasis.

"The fire was only a few feet from us, but the space inside the house was colder than it was outside. I was frozen in place for a few seconds, trying to reconcile what I was seeing with what I was feeling, but before I could make any sense of it, I saw a man, sitting in the chair in front of the fireplace. Just a few minutes ago, there was no one there when we'd looked through the window."

"To describe him... it was like looking at a corpse, but he was breathing. His breath came out like puffs of smoke around his nose, as if he felt the cold too, and we could see the tips of his fingers, blue and clenched around the ends of the arms of the chair. He stared into the fire longingly, like he was begging for it to warm him."

"But the as quickly as I saw him, he vanished, and a strong gust of wind howled outside the home, slamming the door shut behind the three of us. While my eyes were fixed on where the man once was, Carter whipped around and pushed the door back open, and then both Carter and Hellen screamed."

"We were right about the fate of the old man. He'd been swallowed up and frozen in the snow. His corpse had fell out of the snow, stiff as metal, and had pushed the door shut in its fall."

"We were able to drag his body about the snow and return him to the city for a proper burial, but when I told the others about seeing the man - the same man - sitting in front of the fire, neither of them believed me. But that didn't change the fact that none of us could explain how the fire was still roaring in that tiny, tiny home."

He stared into the fire for a moment before looking back to Evaline like that was the end of it, and he was expecting a reaction. Except, Evaline barely even knew what to think about this. She was merely expecting a silly story with maybe an attempted jump scare.

"Okay, how much of that is true?" she asked with a sly smile, attempting to bring the conversation to more lighthearted territory, but she genuinely still wanted to know.

"About half of it," James said, smirking. "What, not scary enough for you?"

Evaline quickly half-rolled her eyes. "If you wanted to scare me, you should have said all of it was true," she said.

James looked to the side and nodded with an expression that read: "fair enough."

"I assume..." she began. "The whole fire, dead body, and vision of the man was all made up?"

"The man had actually passed," James said. "But... yes, the rest was fictional."

Evaline hummed. "You're a pretty good storyteller," she said.

"I'm glad you think so," James said. "I certainly try."

She paused for a moment. "I think this is the first story you've ever told me that involved Carter," she commented, looking up to gauge his reaction.

James wasn't meeting her eyes, but his expression seemed unperturbed. She wasn't sure if he was intentionally keeping it calm or if that was how he actually felt about the matter.

"I guess so," he hummed.

"Do you mind if I ask questions about him?" she asked gently.

James looked into the fire, and his face was still hard to read. It seemed like he was seriously considering her question.

"You can ask questions," he finally said after a few long seconds of silence.

It sounded like he didn't like that this was where the conversation was going, though. She wouldn't ask anything intrusive.

"What was he like?" she asked.

James turned to look out into the forest, above and away from the fire, and up into the trees.

"Well, he was pretty charismatic, actually," James said. "Very sociable. Funny. He projected a very easygoing nature that people seemed to be drawn to, and he was very good at pretending like he cared about people. And that made him relatable, and personable. So I would say he was very well liked - by most, at least. I think there were always people that resented him because of his status, or were wary around him because of it. He came from a family of great wealth, and they had a significant position in the government related to the enforcement of anti-mage and anti-magic laws. So his family was both respected and feared, but Carter tried very hard to break from that mold. Not that he didn't want to be respected, but... he wanted people to know he was human."

Evaline wanted to wait to hear everything before saying anything. This was the first time James had ever opened up to her about Carter -- the same man whose name he could barely say out loud years ago -- and she wanted to give him the time and patience to let out his thoughts. So far, it sounded like Carter was a decent man, but she knew that wasn't true.

"Or at least," James added, presumably as a qualifier. "That's my interpretation of who he was. From... as unbiased of a perspective as I can manage. That's who other people perceived him to be."

"It was all an act," she said when he seemed to finish. "Wasn't it?"

"I think most of it was," James said. "I don't know if all of it was. I think as we got older, it got harder to tell what was genuine, and what he was doing that was out of obligation to keep up appearances. I think, having had known him for ten years, I had the advantage of watching his history unfold. But because I was so close to it, I was blind to much of his insincerity and manipulation at the time."

Evaline tried to recall what James had told her about Carter before. She knew that they were friends - until he wasn't. She wanted to say that he had betrayed him somehow, but it was never clear. The biggest point she remembered about Carter was that it brought James great anxiety back then, and so she had never asked about him.

"Were you close friends until the very end?" she asked.

James continued to stare out into the darkness, and she could see him let out a small sigh.

"Yes," he said. "We were."

Evaline remembered what he had told her last week when he recalled the dream about Carter. He said that he was his only true friend for helping him with the imaginary assisted suicide, and she wondered if he still hung on to him. As friends.

"I don't know the details of your past friendship, nor what happened after, and I'm not going to pry," she prefaced. "But I don't know if he ever was your friend."

James slowly turned his face back towards her, and he briefly met her eyes, holding her gaze for two seconds that seemed to drag on before he looked back into the fire.

"I think that depends on how you define a friend," he said. "But it's hard for me to know. We met when we were kids, and I think, back then, we were both being genuine. Carter may have had underlying motives, but I think he really did want a friend. As for what became of it, and what it turned into over time... I don't think we were true friends by the time we last saw each other, and I don't think we really had been for a while. But it was gradual. I don't think Carter hated me at first. I think... the bitterness grew slowly. It festered, and when he had to choose between me or the king, the choice was clear. He had his own goals he wanted to achieve, and I no longer fit into that picture. So it was easy for him, in some ways. To..."

He trailed off, almost like he hadn't intended to get that far in his response. He stared into the fire with a sad look in his eyes.

Evaline didn't want to pry, but James didn't seem to mind that much to share. At least, in comparison to what he was like five years ago. He was more open... about himself, and also towards her -- wanting to know how she was, and about her own problems, because he genuinely cared. She knew that because she genuinely cared about him, too. So the next word out of her mouth was based in that sincerity.

"To...?" she repeated, waiting to see if he'd go on.

It looked like James swallowed and took in a deep breath.

"After I'd stolen the information and destroyed the vials of dragon's blood required for the king to conduct the experiments that he was planning to do, I knew I was on a ticking clock. I had to get out of there, but it all happened so fast that I hadn't had time to prepare a way of escape. I barely had time to grab a few belongings and rush to the stables before someone found out and word spread. But it turned out that I'd already been found out - at least, partially. Carter knew I'd stolen the information, but he didn't know yet what I'd done to the vials, and he'd already figured out I was going to run. He was one step ahead of me, and he'd apparently told the king to give me a chance. Carter said he pleaded my case with the king. Carter wanted to talk to me. He wanted to reason with me, to give back the files I'd stolen. To pretend nothing had ever happened. No one else knew yet apart from him and the king. If I turned back then, it could've all gone away."

He paused again, and a few seconds passed. This was all new information that she needed some time to fully absorb, but before saying anything, she wanted to wait to hear the whole story if James was willing to share. She didn't want to push him, though.

"But you didn't," she finished for him.

"I couldn't," he said. "Carter didn't know that I'd already sabotaged the whole experiment from the start. Without the dragon's blood, the whole thing would be impossible. I knew I couldn't go back, and even if it was possible, I knew I couldn't. I knew it would never be the same. I would never have the same level of trust that I had with the king before, or Carter, and even if I wanted to attempt to accomplish any good while in the system, I'd already ruined my chances. They would never let me have that opportunity. Not after what I'd done. So I told him no. And that was when I saw something ignite in him that he'd only let leak out in small amounts a few times. There was a deep, embittered hatred... jealousy, and... I hadn't had a moment to process it. He attacked me. Because apparently, the fall-back was, if he couldn't convince me to turn over the information, the king wanted me killed. And he'd agreed to be the person to do it. Personally."

James stopped there, letting the implications hang in the air.

Evaline wondered the implications. Did Carter try to kill him, or did he... let him go? She only knew a part of the story and didn't fully yet understand how or why Carter developed into the character he was now. It felt intrusive to outright ask this question.

"The escape from the palace sounded extremely difficult," she simply said, wondering if he'd elaborate from the point he left off at.

"I held back until I realized that I wouldn't survive if I continued to do so," James said, his voice steady and calm. Detatched. "I had to severely wound him so that I could get away. The only reason I made it through the palace gates was because someone I worked with chose to help me. I still don't really know why they made sure the gate stayed open long enough for me to make it out."

"And you haven't seen him since then?" she asked.

"No," James said.

"Still," she said. "He may have drifted and changed into a bitter person, but it was a friendship of ten years. The circumstances of how you both ended things were far from ideal, and it's understandable if you want closure. I'm only saying all this because Carter still manifests in your dreams in the worst ways, and I wouldn't want you to be continually haunted by your past with him. I just wish there was something you could do about it now so that he can truly just be a part of your past."

James slowly drifted his gaze up to Evaline, and it almost looked like he was studying her. She studied him back. James eventually tore his gaze away, briefly flicking his eyes back to her only for a second.

"I've had a lot of time to think about it myself," he said. "I know closure isn't possible, and I've made my peace with that, even though in a perfect world, I would still want it. I think, in my heart, that's something I'll never truly be able to let go -- though maybe time will tell a different story. But I've forgiven him, now, even if he doesn't know it. It took me several years to, but I have. If anything, I desire reconciliation. But I know that to be impossible."

It took a few seconds for Evaline to even process what he was saying.

"You want to forgive and reconcile with a bitter backstabbing friend who wanted you dead?" she asked, trying not to sound too shocked.

"Sometimes the heart doesn't do what you expect it to. Even though Carter hurt me deeply, I still loved him as a friend," James said softly.

"But he was a bad friend," Evaline countered. "Why do you still hold on to that?"

"I don't know what you mean by hold onto it," James said, still speaking quietly. "But I can't change the fact that I still care about him, even if I don't--"

"But why do you still care about him?" Evaline interrupted. "If he was a bad friend?"

"He wasn't always," James said.

"People change," she said. "You shouldn't let the person he was before define the person he is now."

"And in the same way, I don't want to let the person he is limit who he could be," James said.

"I'm far less optimistic," Evaline said with a low voice. "Once someone becomes a bad person, they'll always be a bad person."

James was quiet for a moment, and he looked into the flames with a face that was unreadable.

"I used to be a bad person," he said quietly.

Evaline waited for him to elaborate, but when he didn't, she decided to prod.

"How so?" she asked.

"I don't think anyone who watches a human being be put to death in a public square - when they could do something about it - deserves to be called a good person," James said in a faraway voice.

"Watching is different than doing," she countered.

"If you're the one who tied the noose, I hardly think it makes a difference," he said.

"But you weren't the one who gave the order," she countered again.

James looked up to Evaline, sharply meeting her eyes.

"I will take responsibility for the lives I've taken, Evaline," he said, his voice cutting, low, and serious.

"And I'm not saying you shouldn't, James," Evaline responded with equal intensity. "I just think you're grossly over-representing what it means to be a bad person. You might have had some involvement in those people's deaths, but it was never direct, nor with malicious intent. You were simply following orders, and at a young age, too. You were not and are not a bad person."

James held her gaze for a moment before darting his eyes down to the ground, in his lap. His expression was severe and sober, but it didn't look like he had a counterargument for what she'd said.

"Do you agree?" she asked when he didn't respond right away.

"Not entirely," he said quietly. "I may have not taken the lives of mages with malicious intent, but taking the lives of goblins did once give me pleasure."

"Goblins pillaged your family's farm and shattered the life you knew it," she said. "It was only natural to feel that way."

"It may have been 'natural,' but vengeance does not justify the hatred and the slaughtering of an entire race," James replied.

"You make it sound like you are the sole reason that their population is low," Evaline replied back, knowing that she was losing her filter, yet she kept going.

"I know I'm not," he said.

"So why do you blame yourself so much?" she asked sharply.

James stared at her, and she watched as his look of intensity seemed to shatter. His eyes drifted to a point somewhere behind her, and his eyes looked like they lost focus, even though his eyebrows were still pinched together in a straight line. Eventually, his gaze dropped to the ground, and his eyes were shadowed.

"I don't know," he said, sounding tired. "I can't remember a time when I didn't."

Maybe she was a little harsh. She decided to dial it down a little.

"Not everything has to be your fault, you know," Evaline said. "Other people share blame, too."

James didn't look up. She could sense that he was growing tense, and she could see the faint shift in his posture in how he seemed more closed off. He didn't reply.

Evaline didn't know what was running through his head, but she decided to take a risk. To reinforce what she already said in the past, while also reinforcing her previous statement.

"And like I said before," she said, much more softly than her previous tone. "I don't blame you for what happened to us. It wasn't your fault."

It was hard to fully see James's face with it turned down, but it looked like he closed his eyes, and turned his head ever so slightly to the side as his eyebrows knit together tightly.

Evaline let a few seconds pass as she waited for his reply, but he didn't say anything, so she decided to add one more comment.

"I just wanted you to know that," she said. "I want you to understand."

Finally, he spoke.

"I'm... trying," he said softly. It sounded like he had to force the words out.

She assumed he meant he was trying not to blame himself as much anymore.

"Look at me," she said, closely watching his face and trying to meet his eyes.

His movements were stiff, but he straightened his shoulders, and sat up straight. When he looked up at her, she could see the beginnings of tears in his eyes glinting in the firelight, even though it looked like he was trying to keep his face set like stone.

"Repeat after me," Evaline began gently. "It wasn't my fault."

She could see James clench his jaw tightly. He wasn't looking her in the eyes, but it seemed like he was trying to keep from looking away again.

"It wasn't--" was as far as he got before he whipped his face around, turning away from her and shielding his face with his arms. She could hear his breath hitch, like a hiccup. He was holding back.

Evaline remembered what he told her last week: that he understood what it felt like to keep thoughts in his head and suffer silently, and that he was no longer trying to do this despite doing it for years. It sounded like he was holding back a cry, and she didn't want to be the one to get in his way from unleashing his emotions.

"It wasn't my fault," she repeated for him to repeat.

James looked like he was curling up - tensing up every muscle of his body. Still holding back.

But Evaline wasn't going to hold back.

"Repeat after me," she said, voice firm. "Evaline doesn't blame me."

At that moment, she saw the tension in James's shoulders slacken, and he practically folded into himself. Without further prompting, he started to weep softly, muffling his cries in his own arms.

But he still wasn't saying the words, and she wasn't going to let his cries get in the way of the first step towards acceptance.

"Repeat it," she said softly. "Evaline doesn't blame me."

The words she heard back were quiet and warbled.

"Evaline... doesn't... blame me."

"And it's not my fault," she said softly again for him to repeat.

"And it's not my f--" was as far as he got that time, but it was hard to tell if he completed the last word, because 'alt' seemed to drag out into a long, distant cry.

It pained her to see him like this, but this was a different type of cry. This wasn't like him breaking down at the waterfall, or him crying when discussing the dream of her ripping out his heart. This was him crying over an insecurity that she fiercely wanted him to understand that it was inherently flawed, because it wasn't his fault. Not just their departure. All of it. His entire history. Most of it wasn't his fault.

Evaline sat there, sitting still with an aching her heart as she watched him kneel over and sob. He kept on going for about another minute or so, but the cries were not subsiding.

"None of it is your fault," she said softly even though she wasn't sure if he could even fully register her words right now. "I want you to know that."

James's cries seemed to hitch after her words, like he was trying to take control of his breath again. He sat up a little more but still didn't turn to face her, and he sniffed back another sob before speaking.

"It's been my fault ever since I left my family," he said with a shaky voice. "I never should have left. I never should have turned my back on them."

"It's not your fault," Evaline reiterated. "You were a child. You didn't know any of this would happen. No one blames you."

"You don't know how many times I've wished it was me who stayed back instead of my father," he whispered hoarsely.

Evaline was quiet for a moment. She remembered some details of his father: how he idolized him, and how he had passed away from the goblin raid. James had wished it was him who stayed behind instead -- him who was killed by the goblins when he was a mere child.

"I don't," she said softly. "I'm glad you're here, and I'm glad I met you."

James was still for a moment, but then he slowly sat up just a little more, though he was still hunched, and he turned his head to look at her. It was hard to make out where exactly he was looking because his eyes were full to the brim with tears that caught the light.

He blinked, and two big tears streamed down each cheek.

"Are you really glad that I'm here?" he asked with a sniff.

Evaline didn't want to say anything brash or anything she didn't mean. She bit her lip for a second to prevent herself from saying anything until she fully thought through her words.

"You told me that you wanted me to know that you care," she said slowly. "And I care too. I care about you."

James broke eye contact and looked off to the side, and he broke into a sad smile, and let out a weak laugh.

"Quoting me back to myself again," he muttered.

"I do have the gift of regurgitation, don't I?" Evaline said with a small, understanding smile. "It's my third power."

James laughed again, and it seemed a little less sad than the last, but he still had tears streaming down his face. He shook his head.

"Tell that to people who ask what your power is," he said with another sniff. "Instead of the memory thing."

"Maybe I will," she said with the lingering smile. "So that both of us can be a part of another fake story together."

"We can add it to the list," James said, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

Evaline waited a bit for James to compose himself, patiently drawing out this lighthearted moment so that he wouldn't be overwhelmed.

"Since I have the ability to regurgitate, I'm going to do it again," she said. "In saying that none of this is your fault. And even if you don't believe it today, or tomorrow, or any time in the near future, I hope you know that it's at least something I believe in. That none of this is your fault."

James let out another weak laugh as he rubbed one of his eyes, half-looking at her.

"Thanks," he said, his tone disproportionately lighthearted compared to his previous crying.

"And..." Evaline began, taking a deep breath. "I didn't answer your question."

She looked off into the darkness of the night for a moment, then back at him.

"Yes. I am glad you are here," she said sincerely. It was the truth.

James brought his hand away from his eyes, and he looked back at her, only meeting her eyes for a second.

He was quiet again for a moment, but before she could break the silence again, he spoke.

"I think I am too," he said softly.

There were two implications behind that sentence, and Evaline didn't know if only one of them were true, or both of them. Was he glad he was alive and on Earth instead of Nye? Based on context, she chose to believe that they were talking about being alive.

"I'll make it my goal to have you say that more confidently next time," she said. "So that you're fully confident that you're glad you're here."

"I didn't know you were making goals about my personal progress," James said like he was trying to say it lightheartedly as a joke.

Evaline scoffed, but only playfully. "I have a lot of goals," she said. "Another one is to get you to laugh sincerely again someday."

"Hey," James said in mock-offense. "That's not fair to all my little half-laughs."

"Sorry," she said with a teasing smile. "Not good enough to check that off the list."

"Well I'm still waiting to hear your full laugh too, so I guess we'll see who cracks first," he said.

"My bet is you," she said casually.

"Can't bet without stakes," James countered just as nonchalantly.

Evaline raised a brow. "Are you proposing stakes?"

"No," he said quickly.

"We could do stakes," she said anyways.

"I don't want to create stakes because I wouldn't want you to suppress a laugh just so you wouldn't lose," James said.

"...Oh," Evaline said softly, looking back over the fire. "I wouldn't do that anyways. At least, I don't think so."

"I wouldn't want to risk it anyways," James said. "Just in case you got bit by the competitive bug."

Evaline was quiet for a moment. It wasn't like she didn't laugh or smile; it just had been a while she since she let the laugh or smile mean anything more than an expression, and a way to communicate.

"Guess you'll have have to think of a really funny, really original joke," she said instead.

"Challenge accepted," James replied.

"And be able to tell if it's sincere," she said casually. "Because I don't have dimples."

"You would if I poked your cheeks where they should be," he said, pointing out his fingers and miming the motion.

"That's how you got yours? People poking your cheeks?"

"Yes," James said, clearly deadpanning.

Evaline stared at him for a second, and then smiled and half-rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Okay. Noted," she said.

At least he wasn't crying anymore. She was glad he got the pent-up feelings out of his system, for now.

"Are you okay, though?" she asked, changing the subject. "I'm sorry if I, um... said anything before that hurt you. And caused you to..." She twirled her hand toward him, trying to indicate that she was referencing him crying.

James looked off to the side.

"No, it-- you didn't," he said. "Not in that way."

"So I did," she said. "Just in a different way."

"I don't consider what just happened to be a 'bad hurt,'" he said softly.

Evaline wasn't sure she understood. "Are you implying there's such a thing as a 'good hurt', then?"

"Yes," he said. "Sometimes the truth hurts."

Evaline wasn't sure she agreed that that was a good hurt, but she didn't want to test this with him since he had finished crying.

"Right," she said, forcing down the disagreement. "And the truth is that I'm actually pretty tired. Does that hurt?"

James let out a huff of air through his nose.

"No," he said. "I feel the same, but you can sleep first. I'll stay up."

Evaline wanted to argue since he was the one who was crying and more emotionally spent, but she knew he would convince her to go first since he didn't sleep much anyways.

"Okay," she said after a hesitation, laying down and wrapping the blanket around her. "We should rest up, anyways. It'll be a long day tomorrow."

The night came and went, and when morning came, they were on the move again. Evaline hadn't told James that they actually already slept at the border of the City of Angels; the city was just so massive, it would still take a while to get to the center. By the time it was obvious that they were entering the ruins of the old city, Evaline stopped to prepare James again before they could get any further.

She drilled James about everything she had already told him before: don't talk to anyone, follow her, go in and out, trade what they needed, and leave. After she heard him agree (again), he rode on Elliot and she rode on her bike towards the center, passing dilapidated buildings that were overrun by vines, vegetation, and nature.

No one lived in the edges of the city. People did, once upon a time, but not anymore. Now, it was more like a warning of the dangers of what lie ahead.

After about an hour, they finally began to see the more up-to-date parts of the city. Newer buildings lined the paved streets, but they were not as tall as the abandoned skyscrapers that were half-fallen apart. There were some people walking and going, but she paid them no mind, and neither did she.

Evaline was only focused on getting to the bulletin, and she only quickly read some signs that they passed. Mostly advertisements of various labor jobs, graffiti, and other establishments that she didn't recall seeing when she was last here. Then again, she was only passing through last time she was here. She never did get to look around.

Evaline slowed to a stop when they were close to the bulletin since there were more people walking around, and the plaza was getting crowded. She started to walk her bike, and she instructed James to stay close to her and Elliot as well. She caught a few stares -- but they were all mostly directed towards Elliot, probably wondering if he was up for trade. One person drunkenly asked so, but she pushed past him and ignored the comment.

Evaline did wonder if some of the stares were directed towards her. She wanted to say it was unlikely, but the paranoid side of her wondered if anyone would care because they were on Oliver's side, or the sector's side. She tried to not let this fear show as they approached the bulletin.

It occured to her that James probably had never seen a hologram before, and she only stole a glance at him when she had pulled it up with her hand so that the list of opporunities were right in front of them in a 3D projection. James looked overstimulated, to say the least. He was staring, and it looked like he was trying very hard not to look overwhelmed, but it was leaking through anyway.

"We'll start with the weapons and self-defense items first," Evaline said, deciding now was not the time to explain the technology. She took control of the searching as she quickly scrolled through the index to look for a list of vendors. "It seems that manual labor is in demand today, so looks like you'll be put to work."

There were a cluster of people who were willing to trade the items she was looking for in return for manual labor that James said he could do, so she wrote the address down on a slip of paper and then swiped away from the posting.

"Let me see if I can find anything for a sword," she murmured as she typed it up, but then a pesky advertisement got in the way.

Even without a capitalistic agenda, it was extremely irritating to have an advertisement block up so much space. Evaline didn't look at it as she groaned and moved her hand towards the corner, about to exit out of it.

"Hey, Evaline," James said softly, sounding distracted. He put his hand over hers to stop her from swiping. His eyes were glued to the advertisement on the screen.

"Yes?" she said, then followed his gaze to see what he was looking at.

He pointed at it. The advertisement read:



And then there was a graphic of two men in the background, facing each other with their fists raised to fight.

"No," she said before he could answer, staring at the ad. "No."

"But consider," James said, still staring at the ad. "I could get a sword."

"You don't know that," Evaline said stubbornly, swiping away from the ad.

"You don't know that I won't," James countered. "I could at least try.

Evaline ignored him for a moment as she resumed her search for the sword in the index, determined to prove him wrong that they were going to get a sword without needing to fight.

"I am not going to allow you to get hurt over a sword that we can get somewhere else," she grumbled.

"Whoever Howard is, it sounds like he's the main weapons dealer in the city," James said. "His competition might not have something as antiquated as a sword."

"I'm not going to put you through that," she said dismissively.

She submitted the query for the sword, and it was as if fate was toying with her, because only one hit came up for a sword: Howard. And because there was only one hit, it auto-populated anyways, and it was the same advertisement she swiped away from.

Evaline groaned, not needing to look at James to know that he was looking at her with a "I told you so" face.

"No," she said stubbornly again before he could say anything.

"I don't know why you're so against it," James said. "It's just a fight, and a controlled one at that. It's not like it's to the death."

Evaline scoffed. "Maybe not death, but you'd still get hurt."

"I can take a hit," James said, looking at her squarely. "I'll be fine."

"I'm not risking it," she said stubbornly as she swiped away from the ad again.

"I'm not going to die," James emphasized again. "It's my best shot at getting a sword. I should at least try. I don't care about stupid entertainment like that, but I know what I want, and that's my best route to getting it."

Evaline shut down the hologram and then turned to face him to show that she was serious. "I don't want you to get hurt," she said, keeping her voice neutral. "Even if the hits are not fatal."

"Listen, if it's traditional combat, that's what I'm best at," James said. "I don't think you understand that I've been trained for stuff like this. I can handle myself, and I'll be okay."

His words did logically appeal to her. James was trained in military arts and combat, and she knew that there would be no one here who had any similar experience. The opponents may have been trained, but it was unlikely that it was as rigorous training as someone who had gone through the military like James had.

It didn't mean she agreed, though.

She looked around for a moment, making sure that no one was around to eavesdrop before she leaned in a little closer to him to speak in a hushed voice.

"I can undo it if you get hurt," she said lowly. "But you wouldn't know unless I, say, signaled to you. Would you accept under these terms?"

James looked at her, and his eyebrows knit together. He almost looked offended.

"And cheat?" he whispered. "No. I don't need help winning a fight like this. It said no weapons, and no powers. That means none of yours either."

Evaline had to bite back a groan. "That's to prevent people from fighting a fist fight with fire," she said. "No one will know. Who cares if it's 'cheating' if you're--"

"I care," James shot back. "I want to win fair and square."

She stared at him for a few passing seconds.

"James," she said in a hushed voice, trying not to sound annoyed. "We're doing this for a sword. That's it. How we get it doesn't matter."

"I know," James said. "But I don't want to steal, and I don't want to cheat."

Evaline let out an exasperated sigh, turning away from the conversation as she led her bike down the path she knew they had to follow first. "Whatever," she said. "My answer is still no. Let's go to the address, now."

James mumbled a: "Fine," before following in silence.

The next hours blurred by. Morning became afternoon, and afternoon became evening. If they weren't traveling on foot to the address she had written down from the bulletin, they were outside with the merchant, using their skills as goods to barter. James was the one who was doing most of the work since the labor involved various carpentry, crafting, and repairs. He was involved in the foundation of a house by putting up struts (with some other people as well), put together a wooden shelf from scratch, and helped repair a leaky roof. This took all day, and although Evaline tried to help, this wasn't even close to being a strength.

This led to too many awkward silences between her and the merchant as they watched James work, and they exchanged some small talk. Evaline listed all of the things they were looking for, and naturally, the merchant asked if she had anything worth trading. She had noticed that he had a few art pieces hung up, so she mentioned her art skills. Although she was rusty, this led to a smaller side-trade, and she was able to sketch while James worked.

It felt strange to sketch people again. She hadn't sketched a person in... well, she didn't even know. Evaline knew this wasn't her best work since she was rusty, but the merchant seemed pleased, and she and James were able to walk away with the items they were looking to trade for, plus more.

This repeated all day until, finally, they went through their list. They had finished bartering for all items related to survival and defense. Next, they just had to barter for food, which shouldn't be too hard. But they still needed to get enough food to last the entire mission, and Evaline had her eyes set on the just-add-water packets that would not only satiate them, but take up very little room. They'd be harder to trade for, but it wasn't as hard as trading for the sword.

Speaking of the sword, James kept mentioning the tournament they saw in the advertisement, even though Evaline kept telling him no.

It was evening now, and they were standing in front of a physical bulletin board that had the same advertisement on it. James was wordlessly gesturing back at it and looking back at her with a look that said: 'You know this is our best option.'

Evaline groaned, her eyes peering past the board and towards a small building with a sign in front of it that read The Rusty Spoon. She saw a few people walk in there in groups, chatting and laughing, coming in with mugs. Maybe it was a tavern. She had heard that most taverns in the city were communal, meaning that the community helped pitch in to ferment the grains and grapes needed for alcoholic beverages. She wondered if they'd even allow outsiders in.

James seemed to notice it too, and he wordlessly looked back to Evaline with a raised brow, curiously looking from her to the tavern.

"...What?" she said suspiciously as she watched him.

"Food," he said as if that was sufficient explanation.

"I don't know if they'd have food in there," she simply said, not even glancing up at the building.

"We could at least check," James said.

"You want to go in," she commented.

James smiled slightly, but looked like he was holding it back as he stepped forward, making his way towards the door. Evaline sighed, hesitating before briskly walking forward to catch up to him.

"Okay, but if we go in, can you stop begging me to enter the competition?" she said.

James stopped in his tracks.

"Suddenly, I am not interested in the Rusty Spoon anymore," he said.

Evaline looked between him and the tavern as another small group of people walked around them to go in. Fine. They'd have this conversation again right here.

"I just don't want you to be in pain," she mumbled, crossing her arms and looking out towards the street.

James glanced back down the street for a moment, his eyes following a couple headed towards the tavern. They seemed to look at Elliot - who James was still leading, keeping him close - curiously. James flicked his attention back to her.

"With no weapons and no powers, I doubt it'll be anything unbearable," James said. "And I think you're underestimating my abilities to not get hit."

"I just worry," Evaline said, furrowing her brows as she intensely looked out into the street. "Can't you understand that?"

"I do understand," he said. "But this is a one-time thing. I'll recover if I do get hurt. A few bruises are not the end of the world."

He paused, reached out to Evaline and firmly setting his hand on her shoulder. He tilted his head to the side a little, aiming to look her in the eyes even as she turned her face away. She hesitated, but she did turn to face him to see if what he was saying was sincere.

"Besides," he said softly. "This is different. I'm signing up for this. I know what I'm signing up for."

She could hear the unspoken message he was trying to communicate with his words. In the past, the wounds inflicted upon him had been by bounty hunters who captured and tortured him. It hadn't been a fair fight, and it was never something he asked for.

Evaline held his gaze before speaking, seeing in his eyes that this was truly something he wanted, and he understood her concerns.

"You're asking me to trust you," she said slowly. "Aren't you?"

James smiled softly.

"Will you trust me?" he asked.

Of course she trusted him. There was just a lot of uncertainty with this, and she didn't like that was willingly going to set James up in a fight, even though he was confident he would do well.

"I do," she said, sighing. "Okay. I trust you."

James gently pulled his hand away from her shoulder and briefly patted her back.

"Thank you," he said.

He glanced between Elliot and the entrance to the tavern that stood only a few feet away.

"So... are we going in?" he asked with a small playful smile.

"I... I guess so," Evaline said, too defeated to even argue this one.

The opening to the Rusty Spoon was a wide archway. Instead of a door, the building seemed to open up like a garage out to the street, and people came rolling inside on their bikes (or in his case, with his horse in tow). The inside was structured like a warehouse, but the walls were lined with wooden tables. One wall was lined with kegs - some of them tall, some of them short - and one wall was partially blocked off by a large curtain divider, and behind it there looked to be a communal storage space, and then a smaller closed off room that smelled like a kitchen.

There were a few four-person tables scattered around the corner near the entrance, along with a fenced in area for parking bikes. In the center of the far wall where there were people sitting at tables with drinks and food, there was a raised stage. On it, there was a piano, a bench, and a chair next to some wired object on a stand that James couldn't remember the name of. He knew it was used to amplify sound.

It looked like the kegs were open to the public, but there was someone who looked like a host standing at a small podium between the curtain to the kitchen and the tables of food and drinks.

The intuitive thing to do seemed to walk up to them first. Before James could ask a question or get a word in, the stout woman behind the podium spoke first.

"What do you have in exchange?" she asked, sounding bored, like she asked this question a million times already.

"What are you looking for?" Evaline said in return.

"Well, usually people come in offering food, or grains and grapes for the drinks," she explained, still in a nasally, bored tone.

Evaline glanced at James then at the exit again, and he knew that she was wordlessly telling him that they did't have food to offer. They were trying to get food instead.

"What about entertainment? In exchange for food," James posed. "I see you have a stage."

The woman pursed her lips and gazed out at the stage before yelling, "Hey, Davey! Want to hear a show?"

The person behind the curtain yelled back: "Sure, why not?"

The woman shrugged. "Sure. What you got to entertain?"

James pulled his harmonica out of his pocket, showing it to her. Briefly, he lifted it to his lips and played a quick scale, just in case she wasn't familiar with the instrument.

"Hmmm," the woman hummed, slowly nodding. "Not bad. What about you, lady?" she asked Evaline.

Evaline glanced between the both of them. "I, uh... could play the piano?" she said, although she sounded unsure.

"She's a pianist," James added in a tone that said she was better than she sounded. He patted her on the shoulder as a show of confidence.

"Don't sound like she's great at it," the woman said.

"How about this," James offered. "We go up and play a song or two, and if you hate it, you can yell at us to hop off and we'll leave. But if you like it, we'll play for, say, a 30 minute set, and then maybe you can hook us both up with a meal?"

The woman grinned. "I like how you barter, harmonica." She then shooed them off towards the stage. "Go on, then. Prove yourselves."

James looked over to Evaline, shooting her a small smile. He knew she would feel rusty on the keys, so as they walked over to the bikes to tie Elliot up quickly (where they could see him, from the stage) he leaned in to whisper to her.

"I'll take the first song," he said quietly. "You take a moment to refresh your memory if you need. If at any point you hear anything you think you can play underneath what I'm playing, go for it. Okay?"

"I think I'll be okay," Evaline said with a strained smile. "I don't know a lot of songs, so if we play for thirty minutes... maybe. But thank you."

James nodded. "Okay. Just follow my lead," he said as he gave Elliot a quick goodbye pat before the two of them hurried up onto the stage.

James stepped up to the microphone. He finally remembered its name. He watched as Evaline walked behind him and sat down at the piano bench, looking over at him.

"Hello, hello to all you lovely folks this evening," James said in a charming and soothing voice. It threw him for a moment that his voice seemed to reverberate throughout the room, but he didn't let it show.

"I hope you're all faring well in the City of Angels. Tonight me and my wonderful friend Eve," he said, gesturing back to her with a wave of his hand. "Will be playing a few songs for you. This first song is a one for the travelers, and the ones without a home. So, without further ado, here's Lonesome Campfires."

He lifted his harmonica up to his lips and leaned back a little from the mic, afraid that it might be too loud. He started to play, and he inched a little closer to the microphone, feeling out how it seemed to pick up the sound.



As the song came to an end, the crowd started to clap, and James looked out to the podium, where the woman stood. She was also clapping and nodding, looking suitably impressed.

"Thank you, thank you," James said as the clapping died down. "For our next song--"

He turned around, speaking quietly to Evaline, off the mic.

"What song will you play?" he asked softly.

Evaline visibly looked anxious as he paused the announcement to ask her the question. "I, um, haven't titled it?" she said quietly with a weak laugh.

James gave her a quick look to tell her it was fine as he turned back around.

"It's an Eve original. Take it away, Eve," he said with a flourish of his hand towards her.

Evaline took a deep breath as the set her fingers on the keys. There was a long, uncomfortable pause as someone in the audience coughed, but then she finally began to play.



This was the first time James got to hear Evaline play in person.

Even though they were both on stage, he found himself turned towards her as he sat on the stool, fixated on the song as she played. It was a calm, melancholic melody, but it she played it skillfully. He watched as her hands danced over the keys, and she stayed focused on each movement and each note, swelling in volume and back down as the song came to a close.

He found himself softly smiling, and when she played the last note, he clapped first, and the rest of the room followed after. Before turning back to the microphone, he looked back to the woman at the podium, and she was giving them a thumb's up. As the crowd's claps started to die out, he could hear her shout.

"Keep going! But play something more upbeat this time!"

Upbeat? James could do that. He looked back at Evaline, raising a brow as he leaned the microphone towards his mouth,

"It looks like we have the rest of the set cut out for us, Eve," he said with a charming smile. He turned back around in his stool to Eve.

"Let's stay in the key of C," he said. "That way I can come in and out with playing. Just keep it going."

He then listed out a quick four-chord progression to get them started, and encouraged Evaline to change it up after they got settled into it and found a groove. He counted a beat on his fingers - one, two, three four.



As the set went on, James and Evaline found a groove that they settled into. James would improvize and lead with a melody, and then he would hold down the chords while Evaline took the lead. And they kept tossing it back and forth to each other. Occasionally, James would offer suggestions for chords to change up the feel of the music a little, but they kept it more upbeat. Something you could tap your foot to.

At one point, James quickly directed Evaline to go to a few chords. The moment he came in with the melody, it seemed that Evaline knew the song, and James glanced back at her with a slight smile in his eyes. He pulled away from the harmonica and started to sing.

It was a song that Mel had given him, on one of the tapes. It was the only reason he knew it.



That was their last song, and as James and Evaline held out the last sustained notes and the song came to a close, James got to his feet.

The audience started clapping, and the applause seemed to extend beyond the usual few seconds. It wasn't anything extravagant, but it was evident that people enjoyed it. James looked back to Evaline with a smile, and he waved for her to come stand up next to him for a quick bow.

Evaline was shyly smiling wide, not at the crowd, but at him. After a brief hesitation, she stood up and walked next to him, but she extended out her hand for him to take. She wanted to bow together.

James met her eyes with a smile and took her hand. Together, they took a bow, and for a moment, the claps and cheers reached a crescendo, and then they died out. James stood beside Evaline and let his hand linger, but only for a moment.

The woman - who he never got a name for - was walking up the stage, like she wanted to talk. James let go of Evaline's hand and hopped down off the stage to meet her, and Evaline followed behind him.

"What did you say your name was again?" the woman asked. She seemed far less bored with their existence than she did 30 minutes ago.

James offered his hand for her to shake.

"Sorry about that. I never did say. You can call me Matt," he said. He decided to pick an alias. Just in case.

"Matt 'n Eve," the woman mused as she took his hand for a quick shake. "Great sounding pair."

"Thank you--" James paused, looking to her with an expectant, curious smile. "And what's your name?"

"Rhonda," she said with a smirk, pulling her hand away.

"Rhonda," he repeated. "I'm glad you liked the show. I hope it's not too forward to assume that means we've earned our way to some food, now, is is?"

"Yeah, yeah," Rhonda said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "You've proved you're entertaining. What d'ya want?"

James turned his attention to Evaline to look for her input.

"Is there anything you have in mind?" he asked.

"We're looking for something more long-term," Evaline said, giving James an appreciative nod for letting her speak. "Freeze-dried food specifically, in packets. Do you have a bundle of those?"

Rhonda stared at her in disbelief for a second. "You want to eat those wretched things?" she asked.

"I assume that's a yes...?" Evaline said instead.

Rhonda sighed. "Yeah, we have them alright. Let me see what I can get for you, but they ain't gonna be good. In the meantime, do you want something more fresh?"

This time, Evaline turned to James for a response.

"If you're offering, we'll take it," James answered.

Rhonda let them take their pick of some of the shared dishes they had available for the night, along with whatever beverages they desired. James wasn't interested in getting tipsy, so he stuck to the food, and Evaline seemed to follow his lead. They both found a table near the outskirts of the seating area so they had a view of the full room, and they started eating.

When they were about done with their meal, Rhonda returned with about a week's worth of "instant packets" as she called them. Eve said it wasn't quite enough for their trip. Rhonda was within earshot as they started to discuss their options, and she rounded back to their table, offering them a simpler option.

If they played more through the rest of the night, she was willing to part with more instant packets. Especially since - in her words - they tasted like cat pee.

By the time they finished playing and Rhonda dumped what felt like the last of the packets she had, Evaline decided it would be best for them to head back to the outskirts of the city. She seemed convinced that it was safer than camping in ruins, and James didn't care to argue. He trusted that she knew the area better than he did, and their previous night seemed to prove that it was safe enough to do so.

They started to make their way out of the city, weaving through the streets as they watched lights slowly dim and go out, and less people were walking the streets. The city was going to sleep. Slowly.

As they rounded a corner, they saw a wiry man who looked to be drunk leaning on a building wall.

"Hey!" he called to them, already approaching with heavy footsteps and a grin.

James didn't know what the man wanted, but he assumed it couldn't be anything good.

"Did you come from The Rusty Spoon?" he asked as he got closer. "I heard it. Heard you play."

James glanced at Evaline.

"Yeah, that was us," James answered.

The man seemed to hum as he exchanged glances between the two of them, stopping a comfortable distance away from the two, but still close enough that he could become a threat if he became aggressive.

"You both got more than just talent," he said, thinking out loud. "Mm... yes. Would be excellent."

James watched as the man looked both him and Evaline up and down. He made no effort to hide it. James squinted slightly, but otherwise concealed his discomfort behind a polite smile.

"We're flattered," he said. "But we really must get going--"

"You live around here too?" the man said too eagerly. "So do I."

"What a coincidence," James said. "Now, we really--"

"Let me strike you a deal," he interjected again, twirling his forefinger in front of them while slurring his words. "You and her. Take a poor drunkie home. And then I will capture your beauty."

James blinked slowly.

"I'm sorry, what?" was his frank, unfiltered reply.

"Matt, don't be so rude," Evaline suddenly scolded as a teasing smile tugged her lips. "Don't you want a drunk man to capture your beauty?"

"SEE!" the man said triumphantly, arm gesturing out to her. "Pretty woman gets it."

"I think I'm missing something here," James said slowly as he looked between the two of them.

"I take pictures of beaut-iiiii-ful people," the man said as he pointed to himself. "I take pictures of you."

It finally clicked.

"Oh," James said. "You're a photographer."

"Mmhmmm," he said. "And you're a musician."

"And you want to take pictures of us... now?" James asked, raising a brow.

The man scoffed. "What do I look like, a criminal?" he said in offense. "No, I need rest. Rest for my creative mind. Take me home and I'll capture your beauty. Tomorrow."

James wasn't sure what to make of the whole situation. To him, it sounded like a hoax. Clearly, it was a trap of some sort for them to get taken advantage of in one way or another. He wasn't thrilled about it.

He looked to Evaline, searching her eyes for her opinion.

"We're not really looking for pictures," Evaline said after she met his eyes and held it for a moment. "What else do you have to offer?"

"I am also a catographer," he said but then scrunched his face and paused. "Carographer. No, no... cartographer. Anyways, I make maps. You need maps?"

Evaline stared at him for a second before turning back towards James. "We could use a new map," she said softly, but she still looked wary.

"Do you both actually live 'round here?" he said. "Look homeless, passing through."

"For a drunk man, you're observant," James said dryly.

The man scoffed. "I'm a phograper," he said, butchering the word photographer. "A little drink can't change what I do."

There was a short pause as the three of them exchanged brief glances, like they were all considering.

"All you need is for us to lead you home," Evaline said. "Is that it?"

"No," the man said, seemingly annoyed that she wasn't getting it. "Take me home, and then I'll capture your beauty in the morning. It's Vance's Studio. Surely you've heard of it?"

"We're new in town," James said. "But if you direct us to your home, I'm sure we could lead you and make sure you get there."

"Tell you what," the man persisted. "You both need a safe spot to stay. Can't have you smelling and looking like wild hogs tomorrow. Why don't you stay in my spare room? And make sure I get plenty of fluid before I sleep? I can't have a headache while working on my new master piece."

James stared at the man, then looked to Evaline, then back at Elliot.

"You have a place to put a horse?" he asked.

The man -- Vance -- seemed to notice Elliot for the first time despite being so-called observant while drunk.

"What a fascinating animal!" he said instead. "Is it real?"

"Real as the alcohol in your bloodstream," James said.

"This will do," Vance said, ignoring him. "Yes. This animal can stay in my garage. Maybe brush him up a bit first. Make him pretty."

"Elliot is alred--" James started to say in defense, but Evaline interrupted him before he could stick his foot in his mouth.

"Can you point us to where you need to go?" she said.

"That way!" Vance said, but then didn't move. "I... think. You know, funny thing about being a map maker. You don't always know your way around."

It took a few minutes of wandering, but Vance gave them his address and they were able to find their way. Evaline followed the street signs despite Vance's drunken protests that they were going the wrong way, and eventually they did happen upon a small building that had a sign by the front door that read: "Vance's Studio."

The building was a little worn, but not nearly as dilapidated as the abandoned ones on the outskirts of the city. Vance pointed out his small garage first, and Evaline parked her bike in there. Between her bike, Vance's bike, and all of the old photography equipment left in there for storage, there was just enough room for Elliot, but James did feel bad for leaving him in there alone.

James softly apologized to Elliot before they closed the garage (with an opened window) and let Vance into his studio.

The home they entered was small. The living space was crowded with cameras and other gear he assumed was for photography, and there were two small rooms separated by a paper-thin wall for sleeping. One room was larger, and presumably Vance's. They went into that room first and helped Vance walk in.

James released his arm from under Vance's shoulders and watched as Vance stumbled into his bed and started to get ready. He took off his shoes and socks by himself, but that seemed about as far as he got before he lied down on his back and croaked out: "water."

Evaline was the one who hurried to get him a glass from the sink, and James was the one who helped make sure he drank it without making a mess.

Vance seemed to chug the water fiercely until it was gone. With a sigh, he handed the glass back to James and flopped back onto his bed, already looking half-asleep. He mumbled something about how they could sleep in the guest bedroom, and then he was out.

Snoring.

James stood still at Vance's bedside for a moment, and then set the empty glass on the small side-table, turning to Eve.

"Well, at least we know he was telling the truth," he said with a shrug.

"I thought there was some sort of catch to this," she said in a hushed voice, staring at him sleep. "But I guess he really did just want to sleep and take photos for tomorrow."

"I guess so."

James hummed and looked back down at Vance, who was sleeping soundly. This was one of those rare moments where he ran into a stranger who had pure intentions - if pure was even the word for what Vance wanted. James still wasn't sure what the photos would entail, but he was glad at least for a place to stay the night.

And potentially take a bath? Vance did allude to that. They would have to find out in the morning.

James departed from Vance's bedside and wandered over to the next room, peeking in.

There was a single bed, and it didn't look like it was meant for two people.

"I'll take the floor," he offered immediately.

Evaline followed him to the room after closing the door to Vance's bedroom, and then stood by his side at the doorway, staring at the bed.

"There's no possibility of me convincing you otherwise," she said. "Is there?"

"I've already made up my mind," he answered. "So no."

Evaline let out a small smirk as she leaned against the other side of the door, gazing at him.

"You're kind of stubborn," she commented. "You're not letting me convince you out of anything."

"Is that a bad thing?" James countered, looking back at her, unsure if this was leading to something, or if she was just observing.

"No," she said innocently. "Not with your intentions. But sometimes other people have good stubborn intentions too." She paused. "Like me wanting you to not get hurt at a fight, and also wanting you to get a good night's rest."

"And I acknowledge those," he said. "But also - I know a soft bed won't make a difference."

"Don't you think sleeping on a bed will at least give you better quality of sleep?" she asked. "I wouldn't want you to have a bad back and have someone beat you up."

"Bad news there," he said. "I already have a bad back."

"And tomorrow it'll be a worse back," she said.

"Maybe if I win, someone can crack my back for me," James joked, crossing his arms over his chest.

It was supposed to be a lighthearted joke, but Evaline looked back at him unamused, possibly because she was still stubbornly determined for him to sleep on a bed. She broke her stare to study the bed.

"We could just sleep on opposite sides," she suggested.

The thought shouldn't have made James nervous. Before his brain could even take a step with that thought, he strangled it, and shoved it back.

"We could..." James said stiffly, looking at the bed as he trailed off. He wanted to think of an alternative, but there were no couches in Vance's little home.

"I see," Evaline said after a short pause. "You're not stubbornly determined to sleep on the floor. You're determined for me to sleep on the bed. How chivalrous of you."

James glanced back at her, but didn't meet her eyes.

"Good deduction," he said.

"You don't need to be," she said, still in her normal tone, like this didn't bother her. "Let's be practical and get a good night's rest. Don't overthink it."

Right. Don't overthink it. He was always overthinking it.

"Sure," he said. "We'll both sleep on the bed. No floor for me."

"Glad I can at least win this one," Evaline said with a small smile, then moved towards the bed, sitting down and bending over to take her shoes off.

James followed suit and sat on the opposite end, peeling off his boots, then his socks. He took his jacket off and stuck it with his shoes on the floor before he stood up and turned around to push back the covers. He slid in and took one of the two pillows, setting it under his head.

He didn't really look at Evaline, and the lighting was too dim to make out many details anyway. He could feel the bed shift when she hopped in beside him, getting comfortable under the covers as she laid on her side, back facing him.

He was lying on his back, looking upward. He turned on his side, facing away from her as well.

This probably wasn't the strangest situation he'd been in, but it was still... awkward.

"I know you probably won't sleep the whole night," Evaline suddenly said, breaking the silence that followed. "So if anything happens, don't hesitate to wake me up."

"Of course," James answered.

There was a short pause.

"You're also pretty good at thinking on your feet," she said. "Especially in front of an audience."

James assumed she was talking about their performance at the tavern.

"I'm well practiced in the art," he replied. "And you're not bad at it either. It was nice playing with you. You're quite good at improvising."

Evaline was quiet for a moment. "I haven't done a duet in... I don't know. Ten years. It was nice to do one again with you."

James held on to the edge of the covers a little more tightly.

"Yeah," he said. "It was."

There was a lull in the conversation as another short silence passed.

"I guess the City of Angels isn't as bad as I remembered it being," she said softly.

"I'm glad it's proven both of us wrong," James replied in like manner.

"Yeah," Evaline said even quieter.

And again, another long pause.

"Good night, James," she said softly as she shifted a bit on the bed.

"Good night," he said, pausing to say her name softer. Just in case. On the off-chance that the drunken, passed-out Vance might overhear. "Evaline."

"I don't mind," she seemed to blurt out. "If you call me Eve while we're here."

James paused, letting that sink in.

"Okay," he said softly. "Good night, then. Eve."

Evaline woke up to the sounds of unfamiliar shuffling and hushed voices. She didn't immediately open her eyes, instead halting her sleepy, bleary mind to wonder where she was and what she could be hearing. It took a few seconds to remember that she and James were in the City of Angels, staying at a photographer's house for a map and photoshoot, and in return they brought him home and consented to the pictures.

In retrospect, this sounded like a total scam. Yet here they were.

She gently opened her eyes to see the light filtering through the white curtains, and then she slowly sat up straight, rubbing her eyes. When she looked over at the other side of the bed where James laid, she saw him laying stiff and still, staring up at the ceiling with dead eyes. She wondered if he was possibly sleeping with open eyes until she saw him blink.

"Good morning," she said to him to bring him back to the present.

James blinked rapidly a few times, and turned to look at her with tired eyes. But it looked like they softened just a little as he looked at her with the faintest smile.

"Oh. Good morning," he said, his voice sounding low and groggy.

If she didn't steal a glance at him before speaking, she'd have thought she just woke him up.

"I didn't disturb you... did I?" she asked with a faint, tired smile.

"No," he said. "I was just... spacing out."

"How long have you been spacing out?" she asked.

James closed his eyes for a moment and shifted his head on the pillow, like a weak attempt at some kind of shrug.

"I don't know," James said. "A while."

Evaline looked down at him and, in the midst of just waking up, didn't say anything as she naturally started to observe him. He had a small hint of a smile that was tired yet expressive, but she could tell that he wasn't forcing it. He kept his eyes closed for a few seconds before returning her gaze with half-open eyelids, evident that he was tired, but not enough to fall asleep. His hair was grimy and a mess from stirring in the pillows, and he had a morning stubble from not shaving yet.

She looked away and towards the door when she realized she was staring.

"I hope you got a good night's rest," she said distractedly.

"It was decent," James said. She could feel the bed shift as he started to sit up.

"I guess we don't really have any plans until the fight," she thought out loud. "Besides this... photoshoot."

"That," James hummed softly. "Right. We should probably make sure Vance is still alive."

It sounded like he was trying to make a joke, but he said it so plainly it was hard to tell.

"Probably," she echoed in the same plain expression, unmoving.

James looked over at her, then at the door.

"I hope he's not as weird sober as he was drunk," he commented quietly.

As if Vance heard that comment, the door suddenly swung open and out popped Vance, looking refreshed and neatly dressed with his hair combed back.

"Rise and shine, my beauties!" he sing-songed, but then frowned and clicked his tongue as he laid his eyes on the both of them. "Oh, no no no. You can't go out looking like that. Hurry up and come out so we can get you fixed up."

He then left the door partially open as he walked away without waiting for their response.

Evaline didn't know what he meant by getting them "fixed up" but she didn't like the sound of it. She wordlessly turned towards James with a face of regret. James returned the look with understanding, as if to say he wasn't thrilled about it either, but they were in too deep to back out now.

"Maybe he'll just want to photograph one of us," she said.

James looked like he was holding back a laugh.

"You mean me," he said.

"Thanks for volunteering," she said with a smirk.

"Hey--"

"We're WAAAAITING!" Vance yelled from the main room.

"We?" James whispered as he slowly got up off the bed, leading the way out into the main bedroom.

That explained all the shuffling she heard the morning. With a sigh, Evaline swung her legs over the bed to the floor, standing up and stretching for a second before following James out the door.

James probably only took three steps out the door before people started to swarm him, coming up close and inspecting his face too closely.

"Vance was right," a short woman said as she stepped up on her tip toes to flick his greasy hair, and then look back at Evaline with a look of mild disgust. "I still need to do some work. These two need a shower, stat."

So obviously, this was more than just a "photoshoot." Having people here to make them look their best made her uneasy. What were these pictures going to be used for? Her name was controversial enough, and she didn't want the stigma of her face going around either.

She took a few steps, hiding behind the door frame as she internally apologized to James for leaving him by himself. Surely he'd understand.

James seemed to gently wave the short woman's hand away from inspecting his face and he laughed in a way that would've seemed good-natured and genuine if she didn't know him better. James gave a brief, half-second glance back at Evaline, and she felt like she could see a hint of his discomfort leak through before it was concealed behind a confident smile.

Evaline had to suppress a groan as she then stepped out so that James wasn't by himself. She tried not to glare as the short woman shifted her attention to her, now up in her face.

"What do you--" she began, but was interrupted by the woman suddenly leading the both of them into the nearby bathroom.

"Shower," she explained, pointing at the tub. "Ten minutes."

She then glanced between the two of them, as if sensing their discomfort.

"Don't tell me that you want privacy from each other," she said in offense.

Evaline looked back at James, and for a few seconds, they had a wordless conversation with just their eyes. She could tell that James was uncomfortable with the entire setup, but he would be even more uncomfortable if someone else took her spot to help him clean. Evaline couldn't care either way -- although the whole thing was just plain random and overall uncomfortable. Still, she wanted to do what James was most comfortable with.

"We can handle this ourselves, thanks," she finally answered. "No need to come in."

"Okay, great, walk out with a towel and we'll handle the rest," she said as she gestured at the stack of towels next to the tub and then shut the door behind her.

Evaline sighed, her eyes drifting to the tub. There was a showerhead with pressurized water that she was sure James had never seen before, so she sat on the edge and turned it on.

"I do admit I miss showers with pressurized water," Evaline mused as she stuck her hand out, feeling the temperature. "I assume you've only taken baths?"

When she turned back to look at James, she saw that he was staring at the shower head in a mixture of innocent shock and fascination. His eyes were wide and he'd tilted his head ever so slightly to the side.

"Yeah," he said distractedly.

Evaline let out a small smile as she took in his reaction of innocent wonder. The water was warm enough, so she stood up and looked between him and the towels.

"Well. I guess we both have five minutes, and there's already soap in there for our use," she said. "Do you want to go first, or...?"

James still seemed slightly mesmerized by the shower, but he shook his head and turned around.

"You can go first," he said quickly.

"Okay," she said after a brief hesitation.

It wasn't like she cared about modesty, but it felt a bit awkward that she was going to change out of her clothes with James right next to her in a small bathroom. She decided to not think anything of it as she quickly undressed and then hopped in the shower, pulling back the curtains and then cleaning up.

Even if this entire situation was plain odd, she was glad to get a shower out of it. The dirt and grime washed away, and she was able to scrub away two weeks worth of dirtiness with the soap. She didn't even want to know what she looked like before this. It was no wonder that people insisted that they cleaned up.

When finished, she wrung her hair and then reached for a towel before wrapping it around herself. Luckily it was fairly big, and it went down to her shins. Still, she felt exposed that she was going to walk out with just this.

"I'm done," she told James as she stepped to the other side of the room and turned her back on him, ignoring the small puddle of water that she created. "I left it on for you."

James wordlessly seemed to change and shower himself, and Evaline waited, staring at the door like she was daring it to open.

Several minutes passed, and that was exactly what happened. But at least she braced for it.

James was still in the shower, but the woman from earlier peeked in and saw that she was ready already.

"Great! You're done," she said, and then grabbed her hand and yanked her to the main room again.

Evaline barely got to glance back before the door closed behind her and she was sat down in front of a chair and given a bowl of oatmeal.

"Breakfast," she simply explained, and was already brushing her hair and messing with it.

Evaline started to protest, but the woman started to shush her, telling her she needed to eat because she was too skinny. She decided to ignore the insult and eat anyways out of spite.

An hour passed, and Evaline didn't see James again. She hoped he was okay.

They had combed, blow-dried, and styled her hair with subtle waves, and they also dressed her up in nursing scrubs before setting her back down and applying makeup.

Why she was wearing nursing scrubs, she had no idea. At this rate, no one was listening to her, and since this was fairly harmless anyways, she decided to shut up and just get this thing over with.

"All done!" the makeup artist said with a grin, and then motioned for her to follow her out of the divided room and into the main room where the camera equipment was.

"Oh, great, you're here, darling," Vance said as he got behind his camera. "Stand over there and pose for me."

Pose... how? This was the worst.



She endured a few minutes of painful photographs as Vance kept telling her to smile for the camera, but it wasn't good enough, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do.

"How about we take a few minutes to let those creative juices flow?" Vance said to her, shaking his head in disapproval. "Really. Natural beauty, but such soulless modeling," he mumbled more to himself.

Evaline was glad to stop and stepped out of the staging area, sighing as she stood off to the side.

"Bring in Matt!" he barked over the curtain, and suddenly James was pushed into view. He was wearing similar scrubs but had a stethoscope hung around his neck, and he had a clipboard in his hand. It was almost like he'd stepped into a calm stage personality - reminiscent of how he seemed to act during their stage performance when they'd played music at the Rusty Spoon. He stepped into the spotlight with a seemingly natural confidence and looked to Vance for direction.

"Alright, give me a smile, darling," Vance said as he starting bringing the camera around. "Give me a few different poses."

Evaline watched as James seemed to seamlessly switch from a smile, to a thoughtful gaze down at his clipboard, and so on and so on. Vance seemed pleased, as he was muttering compliments between shots.

"Okay, okay," Vance said. "Eve, come back in the shot. I want some of you two interacting. Give me a standard smiling shot, standing next to each other. Face me."

Evaline glanced between James and Vance, sighing and then walking up to James to stand next to him. She tried to smile, but Evaline knew she was hating this.



Vance had them run through a few different poses where they interacted before dramatically waving his arm.

"Cut! Let's move on to the next set of photos. Hair and makeup! Outfit change, please!"

And then James and Evaline were dragged away again.

Evaline decided at this point that there was really no point in protesting anymore. Clearly she was not a good model for Vance, but she didn't care. A deal was a deal, and as long as she got the map, the result didn't matter. They just had to put up with his hell until Vance decided they were finished.

Still, as she was given the next outfit to change into, she wondered if James was okay. People were getting up close and personal, and although she thought it was annoying, she knew it would make James uncomfortable.

They went through a few more scene changes, wearing different sets of clothes. There was one scene where she was dressed in a ridiculous red party dress, and she had to do a few embarrassing poses by herself before Vance brought James is. It was a dance photoshoot, although this was far from a dance since Vance gave them rigid instructions to follow his vision. When Evaline met James's eyes a few times, she could tell that he was trying not to show that it was awkward, but she felt that he understood.



There were a few poses in casual attire and random poses, but when James was brought on, it becoming more and more clear that Vance was photographing a couple pose. Evaline decided to not overthink it, but it was hard not to when he instructed them to look into each other's eyes for minutes on end.

It was strange, holding eye contact with James for a while under these circumstances. She found herself spacing out and getting lost in his deep blue eyes looking back into hers, and when Vance told them to smile, she found herself finding it more natural.



"Beautiful! Lovely! Perfect! That's what I'm looking for!" Vance complimented when they finished with the pose, and then they were swept away again.

Evaline was told this was the last photoshoot, and for whatever reason, it was boxing attire. She felt painfully awkward as she pretended to fight, and she was glad that Vance didn't have her pretend to punch James, because they didn't cross paths for this shoot.



When finished, they returned back to the divided room and she was given her clothes back... which she realized was washed. Well, that was nice, if not a little invasive. When all was said and done, Evaline was back to her practical dark attire, and she knew that she felt out of place since her hair and makeup was still done. She made a mental note to wash her face later, but she didn't want to offend any of the makeup artists here now. They seemed to already think she was snippy.

By the time she got back to Vance, James was already waiting for her. She met his eyes and nodded at him, and they seemed to have a mutual understanding that they were both ready to go.

"We finished your photoshoot," Evaline said to Vance. "May we have the map now?"

"Oh, it's over there, darling," Vance said, gesturing to the rolled up brown parchment on the table. "The photos turned out lovely. Thank you for letting me capture your beauty."

"You're welcome, I guess," she mumbled, and then started to head towards the table.

"You seem to pose better with pretty boy here," Vance said casually, nodding at James. "You should persuade her to smile more. Scowling isn't good for your skin. Causes more wrinkles."

"We'll note that for our skincare," James said casually, but Evaline could hear his sarcasm.

"Perfect," Vance said, the sarcasm not registering at all. "And you," he began, turning towards Evaline with the map in hand. "Make sure this man doesn't waste his angelic talents, you hear me?"

"Uh huh," Evaline said without really listening as she looked at the map. It was bigger and more detailed than hers, which was a relief.

"Seriously, such a waste of talent," Vance said mostly to himself as he clicked his tongue and then shifted his attention back towards James. "I hope to see your angelic face more on the screens," he said. "Bye now."

James put his hand on Evaline's back, starting to lead her to the exit.

"Thank you for the trade," James said with a polite smile. "Goodbye, Vance."

And with that, they were out of that miserable house, and Evaline felt like she could breath better... especially since the air outside was fresh and not stuffy with perfume.

They both headed for the garage to get Elliot and her bike. Elliot seemed to be relieved that they arrived, and was even more eager to leave that Evaline was. James got Elliot ready to go as she peered down the road, wondering what to do for the next several hours before the fight.

"So that was an experience," she said to start off.

Her comment seemed to cut through whatever mask he'd put on to get through the photoshoot, and his placid expression started to wane.

"That's one way to put it," he said with a strained laugh in his voice. He offered Elliot a carrot, that Elliot happily munched on.

Evaline sighed. "I wouldn't have agreed to all of that if I'd have known what it fully entailed," she said. "I'm sorry it caused discomfort."

"I'm just glad it's over," James said, shooting her a weak smile, though he did seem genuinely relieved. "And at least we had a place to sleep for the night too. And -- the map is better too, right?"

Evaline felt a bit selfish that she wanted the map because her map was regional. She wanted to know what was beyond the borders of the safe zone and the mountains that went into the ungoverned lands -- and this new map had that. She didn't feel like explaining the motivation for James, though.

"Yes," she said, trying to mimic his smile. "It's better. But -- I wouldn't put you through this again. Once you finish the fight, we'll fall back to our routine."

James nodded and patted Elliot on the side, before he grabbed Elliot's lead and looked out of the garage, wordlessly communicating that he was thinking about what they would do next as well.

"We can go back to the City Center," Evaline offered. "Maybe figure out the fight registration."

"I do need to register," James agreed. "But I think it would be wise to make sure Howard even has a sword in his 'hoard.' We should stop by his shop first, otherwise the fight won't be worth the trouble."

Evaline paused for a moment in thought. "So you are just doing this for the sword," she commented.

"Yeah," James said like it was obvious.

"Seems like yesterday you were determined to do this even if the sword wasn't in the collection," she casually pointed out.

"I am determined only if a sword is in his collection," James corrected. "Which is why I want to check."

Evaline hummed, then got her bike ready. "Okay, then," she said. "Let's go check the City Center and figure out the address."

James nodded, and they headed back into the city streets.

It was easy to find where Howard's shop was. The information popped up quickly on the board the moment Evaline started writing up the search, and it looked like the Weapon's Dealership was close to the City Center anyways, just a block down. It was convenient, at the very least, and they were able to make it there within an hour's walk.

The outside of Howard's shop was gaudy and colorful. The sign of his shop was large, and took up a significant portion of space as it hung over the double-door entrance. It read: "Howard's Hoard" in large yellow letters and "Weapon's Dealership" in smaller white ones underneath. The front wall of the building was painted in what looked like layers upon layers of (intentional?) grafitti, including several hard-to-read sayings and some more graphic artistic interpretations of violence.

Evaline offered to stay behind with Elliot, but she seemed earnest in making sure he was okay with going in by himself. James had to assure her a few times that he would be fine, and he was only going in to ask a few questions about weapons and the tournament, and that was all. Evaline seemed to finally be convinced when she agreed that he could go in, but if he didn't come out in twenty minutes she'd run in to make sure he was okay.

James didn't feel like fighting over it, so he walked into the building, hoping to keep it fast.

The inside was stuffy, and the decor was chaotic, and cluttered. It very much felt the description on the sign: this was a hoard.

Behind layered walls of glass, there were hundreds of different weapons on display. He saw shelves full of different knives and daggers, an array of different types of guns hung up on the walls, collections of bombs, and almost anything you could conceive to be a weapon, big or small.

At the far end of the crowded room there was as long, dark desk, and a man sitting in a massive black chair. Hanging high up on the wall above the desk, there was a small collection of swords. Ten of them, to be exact, and they all looked to be in mint condition. There was a large lamp that hung in the middle of the ceiling, centered over the desk, and it illuminated the blades so that they shone. Polished, clean, and sharp; it looked like they had never been used. There were rapiers, longswords, and even a machete. But James's eyes locked onto one blade in particular.



Its shape and hilt mildly resembled swords he was familiar with in Nye. It was a broadsword, and it was ideal.

So, Howard did have something James wanted. With rising determination, Jame approached the desk, and the man in the chair (which had been partially turned away) whirled around to face him.

"I know that look," the man whom James presumed to be Howard said in a raspy voice. "You want something in my collection."

"That I do," James said. "I'm interested in joining your tournament, but I wanted to take a look here first."

"Oh?" Howard said with a glint in his eye as he looked James up and down. "And what catches your eye?"

"Your broadsword," James said.

"Ah," Howard said with a growing grin. "Traditional choice. Most people would pick the machine gun."

"I'm a traditional man," James said nonchalantly. "So, where do I need to go to register for the tournament?"

"I've had these swords for generations," Howard said instead as he gazed up at them. "They've been sitting dusty on my wall for so many years. If only there were someone who were skilled in the arts."

James glanced up at the swords, then looked back at Howard.

"Howard, right?" he asked.

"Please, call me Howie," the man said. "Howard's just a formality."

"Howie," James repeated. "I know how to use a sword. It's the only reason I want it."

Howie leaned back in his chair, inspecting James. "A sword's more than just a long knife, you know," he said. "It's quite brutal."

"I'm aware," James said, his tone a bit more severe.

"You swing at it like this--" Howie continued, and then mimed a few sloppy swings as if he had an air sword. "--and then slash off opponents' heads, and stab them in the heart. Like I said: brutal."

James hummed.

"Well, you wouldn't really be able to see if I know how to use it unless I were to win the competition," James said, putting his hands in his pockets.

"So you admit it then?" Howie said, leaning forward with a glint in his eye again. "You admit that you're brutal?"

"Not brutal. I will only admit to being skilled," James said.

Howie slowly grinned and let out a bellowing laugh. "I like you," he said. "You should sign up for my tournament. You would make a great fighter."

James had a feeling that Howie - at least, mentally - wasn't quite all there. Or at the very least, he was slow and had selective hearing. James smirked.

"I think I just might," he said. "That's at the city center, right?"

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Howie said urgently. "If you're joining, you have to head over there to get registered and set up. The tournament will be going all night. You have so much to prepare."

So that was where he had to go to register. That was all he needed to know.

"Oh, of course," James said, mirroring the urgency. "I'll get going right now."

Howie let out another bellowing laugh. "No swords allowed, swordsman! You better be skilled in fighting!"

"If you watch the fight you'll see!" James said back as he headed for the door, giving Howie a wave goodbye.

"Oh, I'll watch it alright," Howie said with sudden seriousness in his voice, his face humorless as he didn't return the wave. "I'll be watching."

James had to hold back a laugh as he turned around and left the building. The inside of Howie's shop was so dimly lit that his eyes had to adjust for a moment as he stepped outside.

"Well?" Evaline said impatiently the second he stepped out.

"He has a sword," James said. "We need to head to the city center early to register. So, that would mean now."

"Fantastic," Evaline said in a low voice, obviously unenthused.

"And Howard - or Howie - is a little crazy, I think," he said with a slight amused smile.

She looked at him, unamused. "You're really selling me on this," she said blankly.

"Oh, come on," James said, taking Elliot's lead and already starting to walk down the street towards the city center. "I wouldn't want to be late."



The walk to the city center wasn't very long, and the moment they started getting close, they saw that the streets leading up to it were decorated with streamers, posters, and colorful grafitti advertisements plastered up on building walls.

It was easy to spot the building they needed to be at. It was the largest one on the street, and there was a table outside of it with a loud, red-lettered sign that read: REGISTER HERE. James led the way up to the table, seeing that it looked like other contestants had likely already arrived.

There was a man at the table who looked both him and Evaline over, and then eventually landed his gaze on James expectantly.

"I'm here to register for the tournament," James said.

"Name?" the man said plainly as he pulled up a hologram.

"Matt," James said.

"Power?"

"I thought the fight was non-powered?" James asked.

The man stared at him. "Yes," he said. "We'll give you a nullifying pill, but we have to give you the right one. So - power?"

Evaline leaned in closer towards his ear. "It's okay," she said. "There are no effects other than that it becomes difficult to use your power."

James nodded very slightly.

"Ah," he said. "It's related to dreams. Do you need me to go into more detail?"

"No," the man said plainly. "Got any weapons?"

"None that I'll be using," he said.

"We confiscate any weapons," the man said, then flicked his eyes between the two of them, like he was saying that he could just give it to Evaline.

James reached into his boot and pulled out his dagger, handing it to Evaline, who stashed it away.

"There," James said. "Weapon-free."

The man asked a few more questions, such as his experience, his age, his weight, and so on. It was apparently to determine the tournament order. When finished, the man pointed at the doors behind him.

"Enter through there for preparation," he said, then looked past him. "Next."

Evaline stepped in front of James before he could get very far.

"It looks like that room is for contestants only," she said as she glanced at the door that had a sign that said exactly that. "I won't be able to see you until the tournament."

James stepped further away from the table so that the next person in line could walk up.

"Will you be alright by yourself?" he asked.

"Will you be alright by yourself?" she repeated back, the anxiety obvious in her voice.

"Eve, I'll be fine," James said, reaching out and patting her shoulder. "Take care of Elliot for me. I'll see you in a few hours."

Evaline took a long, deep breath, meeting his eyes. "Okay," she said after a while. "I'll be right outside this building when the tournament is over."

"You should be easy to find," James said. "Being the only one with a horse and all."

Evaline still seemed too nervous to appreciate his little joke.

"Please be okay," she said with an attempt of a smile, although it was obvious it was strained. "I'll hold back any 'I told you so's if you get hurt."

James faced her fully, and he reached down to take her hand, bringing her fingers around Elliot's lead as he held his hand over hers and lifted them up between them for a moment.

"I'll be okay," he said with a soft, reassuring smile. "Goodbye for now, Eve."

He could feel her squeeze his hand weakly but then abruptly pulled away as she also turned her head, her hand pushing a free strand of hair around her ear. Her face flushed slightly, but it was hard to tell if it was out of embarrassment, especially since she almost looked like she was pouting with a scowl and her brows drawn together.

"Bye," she simply said.

James smiled slightly, and then turned to leave Evaline with Elliot. He glanced back briefly, giving a small wave goodbye before he entered through the doorway.


When he entered the room, he saw that it was full of a variety of people. Men and women of different sizes and ages. Some of them looked like they didn't belong in a competition for hand-to-hand combat, but there were several that looked built, and moved like fighters, even if they might not have the typical appearance of one.

It looked like there was one big communal changing room, and there were cubbies with locks on them. A man at the door gave him a key and a cubby number, and pointed him to the wall where they were all lined behind a bench. Several people had already started changing, not seeming to care about showing skin or anything else.

James kept his eyes on the cubbies, and he found his number. He stashed his jacket away and glanced at the other competitors. Most of them were going in shirtless - or in the case with the women, with a small, sleeveless top on. He didn't really feel like stripping down for a fight, but one of the men a few feet down the bench from him looked over to him, catching his eye.

"What, feeling shy?" the man teased, noticing James's observance, and his hesitation.

James ignored the man for a moment as he scanned the rest of the room. There was a sign on the wall, and on it was printed a list of rules. One of them addressed their "dresscode," or lack thereof.

Well that was stupid. But James couldn't argue with stupid when it was part of the rules. He flicked a pointed glare at the man who was still watching him and took in a subtle deep breath.

It was just a damned shirt. He just... wasn't going to think about it.

Following the cues of everyone else around him, he stripped off his shirt, and shoved it in the cubby.

The man low-whistled when he saw his bare back. "I can see why you're shy," he said as he walked away.

James didn't dignify that with a response. Instead, he sat down on the bench with his back to the cubbies and rolled up his pants to his knees. He ignored all of the eyes he could feel lingering on him, looking him up and down. He pretended not to be bothered. He pretended to be confident. That's what all of this was - pretending.

As contestants stopped filtering in, the main entrance door shut, and James could hear the voice of someone speaking on a microphone. He looked over to see a woman at the edge of the dressingroom, and she started going through the list of rules - just in case people couldn't read, apparently. She was especially adamant that they couldn't use powers, they couldn't fight dirty, and they couldn't sneak in weapons. Any such behavior would have them immediately disqualified. When she was done listing the rules, she started calling up names so that they could distribute the power-nullifying pills. They said the pills would stay in their system for a few hours - until the end of the tournament. James quietly went up to get his and plopped it in his mouth as he returned back to his bench, where he started stretching.

When the first round of eliminations started, James and the other contestants were allowed a birds' eye view of the arena. They all stood on a ledge that overlooked the boxing ring down below that sat in the middle of the large, long building. The seats below were spilling over with people, but there was a few feet of space blocked off from where the ring ended, presumably in the event contestants were thrown out of it. The viewer's seating was also raised, leveled like steps around the ring to that people in rows further back could still see.

James tried to spot Evaline in the crowd, but he couldn't quite see her. It didn't help that his eyesight was blurring heads together. The only thing he could make out clearly was the fight in the ring, because that's where all the spotlights were centered.

When it was almost his turn to enter the ring, one of the tournament workers called his name and led him down below into a waiting room where he was given boxing gloves and a mouth guard. He could feel his nerves beginning to stir in his stomach.

But it wasn't about the fight. It was about being seen. Like this. By hundreds of people - but namely, Evaline.

But he couldn't back out now.

He heard his name called. One of the workers waved him over, and he stepped out of an archway into a blinding spotlight, and it took his eye a moment to adjust. There was a small raised walkway that led to the ring. An announcer called out his name, along with the name of his opponent, whome he could see on the opposite side of the ring.

It was a woman named Darla. She looked wiry and fast, and her hair was pulled back into a tight, short ponytail. The two of them walked up to the ring and jumped over the ropes, facing each other.

James ignored the crowd. In fact, he completely put it out of his mind, and didn't even look into the shadowed seats of people. Instead, he took steady, measured breaths and focused on his opponent.

Then the bell dinged.

The first round, James was able to knock Darla out with a swift hit to her sternum. Darla had gotten in a few solid hits, but nothing near enough to take him out. It would bruise, but that was the least of his worries. As he delivered he last blow, she stumbled back, and took too many seconds to recover before James was declared the winner.

The next round went quicker. He was up against a shorter man who was heavy-set but faster than he looked. James was able to dodge most of his hits, but narrowly avoided getting cornered in the far left, where he had to spin around to avoid a blow. The man only managed to minorly scrape against James's side with his glove, barely pulling at the skin. The moment the man did so, though, he left an opening, and James knocked him out cold with one swift punch to the face.

It was the third round that proved to be more challenging.

This time, he was pitted against a man called The Oyster, which he thought was a ridiculous stage name, but he wasn't going to argue with it. The man was huge, and stood at least a foot taller than him. James couldn't help but feel like this round was meant to take him out, but he knew that what he didn't have in size, he could make up for in skill and speed.

The next five minutes after the bell rang were intense.

James was immediately dodging swings, and having to dance around the ring to avoid getting cornered. The man kept swiping, like he didn't want to give James any breathing room to get in a hit, but James kept ducking and weaving. Eventually, The Oyster seemed to be fed up, and he rushed James, backing him up against the ropes.

James avoided getting body-slammed, but as he turned to duck again, he failed to avoid a hit at his face.

He could feel his nose crack, and his head started to spin, but he wasn't going to let a broken nose stop him. Instead, he let it energize him. With a rush of adrenaline, he came at The Oyster, swinging. Together they dodged, occassionally got in a hit, and dodged again. James could see the clock counting down on the wall, and he knew he was running out of time to finish this up, so he took a risk.

He faked trying to run to one side, let The Oyster swing in that direction just as he bobbed and came around the other way, taking the opening to punch the Oyster square in the jaw.

The massive man wavered on his feet for a second before he collapsed, falling heavily on his back.

James stood over him, breathing hard as blood dripped down his nose into his mouth. As The Oyster was carried out of the ring by a few people, the crowd went wild, but James could hardly make out anything past the blinding spotlights that surrounded him and lit up the ring.

He was led off, and the wait was shorter until the next round with less contestants in the game, but in that time, a medic came to him and reset his nose back into place, and patched it with a small bandage that kept the skin from splitting again.

Round four came, and James felt like was in a groove. He came out of the ring only having been hit once, and he managed to knockout his oppontent in under ten seconds. It was a one-hit knockout, and the crowd went ballistic.

That left only one round with him, and the only other remaining contestant. A man who went by the name Draco.

James had the privelige of watching Draco's previous rounds, and he'd been able to observe his fighting style. He was quick, and his movements were fluid, like a slithering snake. James knew this fight was equally matched, and he'd have to give it all he had.

The two of them entered the ring. James could feel Draco sizing him up, looking him up and down. Tracing his scars like they were points of weakness he could potentially use against him. James, however, didn't need to size Draco up. He'd already seen how he moved in the ring, and that was enough for him. He'd studied the man's movements, and noted how Draco would continually toe the line between fighting dirty and fighting fair. He'd never done anything that was enough to get him disqualified, but he was sneaky, and James knew he needed to be careful and think ahead of Draco's movements.

When the bell rang, neither of them moved right away. Both of them carefully side-stepped around the ring, waiting to see what the other would do first.

If this were a real fight, outside of a ring, James wouldn't hesitate. He would end the fight as quickly as possible, whether he fought "dirty" or not. But this wasn't a life or death situation. This was different. Reputations were on the line, along with expensive weapons of choice.

James wanted to win this.

Draco was the one who broke first and snaked towards him with a swing. James leaned back and used his momentum to bring him forward again, sending a swipe Draco's way and blocking before Draco could try to get in another hit.

Draco kept teasing at strikes while James stayed on the defense, waiting for a good opening for a shot. He didn't want to waste his energy, even though Draco seemed to enjoy toying with him.

Then, he took a shot. He hit Draco hard in the ribs, and the next few hits happened back and forth in quick succession. Draco got James in the chest, and James got him back in the collarbone. James could hear a crack, which seemed to make Draco surge with one last punch into James's gut. But James saw it coming and took in a deep breath, relaxing his muscles so that he could absorb the shock of the punch and use the transfer the momentum of it to his own body.

He clocked Draco square in the jaw, right on the side of his face. James could feel Draco's teeth slam together on the mouthguard as he stumbled back onto his butt, not quite knocked out, but cleary in a daze.

James knew he could leave it like that and win, but he didn't trust Draco to not try anything dirty. While Draco was still down, James leaned down and hit him again with an uppercut right to his chin.

Draco was out for the count.

As Draco fell back onto the floor of the ring, James stood up straight. The bell started gonging loudly three times, and the crowd started yelling and cheering. A voice cut through the noise over a microphone, shouting his name, and declaring him the winner of the Tournament of Arms. Attendants came to help Draco out of the ring, and the ringmaster stepped into the ring with a wireless microphone, still shouting and egging on the crowd. James simply stood there, breathing hard as the ringmaster came and patted his back. He took James's wrist and raised it up.

"One last cheer for Matt, winner of the Tournament of Arms!" the ringmaster shouted. The crowd roared louder, and James hadn't previously thought that possible. With heavy breaths, he tried to look into the crowd and make out a face, but all he could see were blinding flashing lights and several people with cameras rushing to the edge of the ring.

A brief, passing thought occured to him that if there were pictures, he may have just blown their cover of secrecy, putting - at least - himself on the map, in the City of Angels.

But it was far, far too late for that.

As the din of the crowd started to die down, James was led by the ringmasted down out of the ring, where James was immediately swarmed by people with cameras, microphones, and he couldn't tell who else. An attendant snuck by his side, taking his mouthguard without a word, presumably so he could talk. Or, so it appeared, smile - as cameras were shoved in his face.

"How did you learn to fight so well?" a woman asked as she shoved a micrphone in front of his face.

"That's a great question," he said, still trying to blink away all of the lights as he flashed her a charming smile. "The answer is practice," he said cheekily.

"How did you get the three scars on your back?" she asked again.

James smiled as he met the interviewer who asked the question, but there was malice hidden behind his eyes.

"I get one each time someone asks," he quipped. "Next question."

"This is the first time we've seen you in the annual Tournament of Arms," a man with a different microphone said. "Where did you come from?"

"Well, I'm a bit of a traveler, you see," he said, still with the same shining, people-pleasing smile. "I'm just passing through."

"What weapon of choice will you pick?" another interviewer asked.

"I have my eyes on something special," he said. "I'm looking at a sword."

Suddenly he was swarmed with more questions regarding a sword, but then the ringmaster pulled him away and said that he was done answering questions for now. James was brought away from the interviewing crowd, but still passed many photographers who took his picture. He recognized one of them as he looked up at him with a cheeky smile.

"You're a knockout in more ways than one, I see," Vance said with a wink, then took a blinding photo as James caught the camera.

James laughed as if on cue, but he was glad when he continued to be led away from Vance. The ringmaster brought him away from the crowd, and the lights and noise started to die down as he was led back into the room with the cubbies and the other contestants. Far too many people patted his back and playfully punched his arm as they cheered and told him good job. Even The Oyster - who was holding an ice pack up to his chin - grinned and gave him a thumbs up.

James finally escaped all of the pats and congratulatory handshakes and made it to his cubby, where he wasted no time unlocking it and putting his clothes back on, making sure he had all of his things.

The ringmaster seemed to stay by his side the entire time, and when he noticed he finished changing, he instructed James to follow him so he could take him to Vance. They took a backroute away from the crowd, and on the way there, the ringmaster went on about how James was invited to an after-party where they'd celebrate his win, and all the other contestants were invited. Funnily enough, it was at The Rusty Spoon.

Finally, he took him to a locked door and said his goodbyes, hoping that he'd see him at the party. When James turned around to look around the room, he saw Howie sitting on a desk with his hands folded in front of him, looking pleased.

On the desk was an opened, neatly-packed box with each of the ten swords out for display.

"Matt," he said with a grin. "I brought my swords with me because I knew you would win. I foresaw it."

This time, James's laugh was genuine as he shook his head and walked up to the box, looking the swords over.

"I see," he said. "You came prepared."

"Of course," Howie said, almost sounding offended. "I assume something in this box catches your eye?"

James met Howie's eyes with a small smirk and reached into the box, picking up the broadsword he had in mind. He took the sheath that was set beside it, and with one swift, graceful movement, took a step back and with a flourish of the blade, slid it into its sheath at his side.

"I think I've found the one I'm looking for," he said.

Howie seemed to look up at him with wonder, jaw open a little until he snapped it shut.

"Perfect," he said as he sbruptly stood up and then shut the box of swords in front of him. "You know what time it is, then?"

James tilted his head to the side as he quickly belted the sheath to his waist, narrowing his eyes at Howie curiously.

"I'm not sure I do," he said steadily.

"Time for a PHOTO OP!" Howie bellowed, and as if this were a cue, a photographer as well as scantily-clad men and women came flooding into the room, marching as they posed with James like it was rehearsed. Howie also marched up next to James, posing in front of the sword like he had anything to do with his skills.

At that point, James was a little tired of keeping up the smiles and charisma, but he kept the smile on his face out of a habit that was deeply-ingrained in him. It didn't matter how he was feeling - he wasn't going to look like how he was feeling.

He was relieved when the half-clothed people finally departed, and the cameras stopped flashing lights and snapping photos. The room eventually emptied of all people except Howie and the ringmaster.

Howie reached over to randomly shake his hand, much too quickly and too eagerly.

"It was an absolute pleasure to see you fight, Matt," he said with a grin. "Will you be coming to the party?"

"I'm not sure," James answered honestly. "I have a friend who's waiting for me to meet up with them and get out here."

"Well, you have a plus one, of course!" Howie bellowed. "Anything for our winner."

James laughed lightly and smiled. "Thanks, Howie."

Howie kept up the small talk a bit longer before he said he finally shooed them away, and the ringmaster brought James back towards the crowd and, finally, to the exit.

James had to hurry through the crowds of people. So many of them tried to stop him and talk to him, and he stopped apologizing and just pushed past them all with an apologetic smile. He made it outside and pushed out of the crowds of people. It was dark now, and there were a few dim lights that lit the street just enough for him to spot the unmistakable shadow of Elliot, and what he knew to be Evaline standing beside him. He tried to brush off more of the people in the crowd who seemed to be following him, and hurried up to Evaline, still breathing a little hard.

When he came into the light of the streetlight, he could see Evaline's face light up when they made eye contact, but she also glanced behind him towards the crowd that was dispersing and also heading towards them.

James glanced behind him, and he could see a group of people who were starting to giggle and chatter excitedly as they hurried towards them. Quickly, he looked back to Evaline.

"We should get out of here, yeah?" he said breathlessly, but it was as if his stalkers heard him, and a mixed group of young men and women (some of whom were teenagers) rushed around him on all sides, with each of them speaking at once.

"Matt! Matt! Sign this--"

"Can I get a picture?"

"Sign my FACE!"

"Oh my gosh when you clocked Draco in the FACE--"

"Can we spar?"

"Are you single?"

"Where do you live?"

"Come to the party!"

"Puh-LEEEAAASSEE!"

All of the words were starting to blend together, and James attempted to push all of them back, as they crowded him in tightly, grabbing his arms and putting their own around his back.

"Okay, okay, give me some space," he said firmly, in a more commanding tone.

Some of them seemed to heed his wishes, but the more stubborn ones persisted, all of them insisting that they come to the party. James had to pry a teen girl's hands off him so he could slip out of the group and ended up backing into Elliot. Elliot huffed, clearly not pleased with being crowded either.

"Hey, Eve," James said, already swiftly mouting up into Elliot's saddle. "Let's go."

He offered her a hand to help her up, which she took with a smile as she mounted on top of Elliot behind him. Before the crowd of fans - or whatever they were - could get a hold of them or Elliot, James urged Elliot forward into the streets.

Him and Evaline rode in silence for a few short minutes until they found a much more quiet, dimly lit street corner where James stopped, and they dismounted. James let out a long and weary sigh, relieved that they were in a relatively quiet place, now, with no flashing lights, no cameras, and no screaming people.

James waited on the quiet city street, and he couldn't help but feel antsy. He was eager to get out of the city, and after five minutes passed with no show of Evaline, James decided he could bite the bullet and push away crowds or fans if needed.

Hopping on Elliot, he hurried through the now-empty streets, beginning to feel a creeping feeling that something wasn't right. He heard no noise and saw no lights ahead, and it seemed like the streets were cleared - which was quite the opposite of an afterparty.

James could feel his heart beginning to sink. He's only made it halfway down the street to the rusty spoon when he'd already done the math. He could see where the Rusty Spoon should've been, and it was neither lit nor bustling with life.

Suddenly the ground beneath him and Elliot gave in, and vines started to rapidly grow, snaking its way around Elliot's legs. A wall of fire surrounded him as a few people walked through, trapping him in.

"Well, well, well," a burly middle aged man said with a smirk. "We've been looking for you. It was so easy to bribe the citizens of the city to bring you to an after-party."

"Thanks for the invitation," James said dryly as he scanned all of the shadows in the dark. All he could make out was that they all seemed to have the same dark vest with a bright orange grafittied symbol. It was easy to deduce they were part of a prominent gang in the area, and he could faintly make out what vest on the man in front of him read.

Gaea.

Why did that sound vaguely familiar?

James took in the four figures. There was the burly man with his short-cropped hair greying on the sides. The woman to his left was tall and had her hair pulled back. He recognized her from the ring. Darla. She didn't look happy.

Among the other two, there was a man about his size that he couldn't quite make out in the shadows, and the other person looked to be a bit more heavy-set, but that was all he could take in before the middle-aged man spoke again.

"Of course, you didn't actually come to the after-party," the man said as he kept his steely gaze on him.

"No shit," James replied, his words cutting. "So cut to the chase - what do you want from me, and what did you do to Eve?"

"Is that what you call her?" Darla said with a laugh, and the others smirked and laughed with him. "How cute."

"We've seen your picture," the man said to James again. "And we know of you, and your little 'friend' from the government. Oh, we've been waiting."

James was tired of dancing around it, but he knew he didn't have the control in this situation. He looked down at the man with steely eyes.

"Waiting for what?" he asked, annoyed.

"Darla, did you think he was a good fighter?" the man said instead, turning towards Darla to speak.

"We haven't fought yet to know," she said with a sinister smirk, and suddenly the vines started to wrap around James's legs as well. It was unclear if it came from Darla or someone else.

James rapidly unsheathed his sword and slit the vines on his leg before they could travel any further. He leaped off the saddle and faced Darla and the man who commanded both the group and the flames.

"If it's a fight you want," James said. "Then leave the damned horse out of it."

Some laughter erupted between the group again, and the man smirked as he even eyed Elliot in ways that made him uncomfortable, like he was already considering him to be his property. James could tell that Elliot was stressed, even though James's presence alone was keeping him from attempting to bolt.

"We're not looking for a fight," he said innocently. "We're looking for your surrender to the Gaea clan. Just imagine how much you'd contribute to our gene pool. And we have the government bitch, too. You both would diviersify our homely family."

They shared another laugh and seemed to be giving each other knowing looks.

Genepool.

Somehow, they knew about him being able to have kids.

James knew if he was going to find Evaline, he'd have to cooperate. He didn't have enough resources or information on the Gaea clan to figure out a way to infiltrate it, and if he knew anything about gangs, the Gaea clan already had their fingers in every little establishment in the city.

He took in a deep breath and sheathed his sword. He walked up to Elliot's shoulder and took his lead, petting him gently to calm him.

"You know of me," he said. "I can't imagine you'd tell me how you came by your information, would you?"

The man - who seemed to be the leader of the group - smirked again.

"No," he said simply, and then snapped his fingers, causing the wall of flames to lick its way towards him, surrounding him completely. The flames were inches from his skin, and he knew there wasn't a way out of the wall of fire that didn't involve getting severely burned. The heat was suffocating, and he could feel the oxygen being stripped out of the air, and he started to gasp for breath. His vision was getting blurry, and all he could see was the burning fire in front of his eyes before he felt his lungs give out, and he collapsed to the ground, still gasping for air, but finding none.

His only comfort was that Elliot seemed to be spared from the torture of suffocation as four towering shadows crowded around him, and everything went dark.



He could breathe again, but his body felt achy. The bruises from the fight were starting to settle in, and he could feel that his nose had started to swell. His eyes felt dry and puffy as he cracked them open, welcomed to the sight of darkness and the smell of musty, still sewer water. Faintly, he could hear what sounded like a distant leak, echoing off the walls.

He was bound to a pole. His arms were wrapped behind him around it, and his hands were bound by what felt like too-tight metal cuffs that dug into his wrists. His legs weren't bound, which could mean a few things. It meant he'd be able to stand, or be dragged upward if necessary. It also meant that they were lending him some level of trust with his feet, or otherwise didn't see him as that much of a threat. They were more concerned with keeping him in place than keeping him completely immobilized. That could be good or bad. It was too soon to tell.

Elliot was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Evaline, or anyone else for that matter.

He tried to wait a minute to let his eyes adjust, but he knew his eyesight was terrible anyway, and it wasn't going to do him any favors if he couldn't make out much in the dark now.

What he needed was to know where he was - and unfortunately, in a city as large as this one, he could be anywhere.

He didn't move for a while, and pretended to still be out with his eyes barely cracked open. Finally, he slowly lifted his head, and leaned it back on the pole behind him.

A few minutes pass as the only sounds heard were the steady drops of water from a leak nearby, until suddenly, James heard a door creak open, and footsteps were heard. It sounded like two people walking in. When he turned his head at the direction it was coming from, he saw two people emerge: the leader, and Darla.

"You're finally awake," the leader said as he approached him with Darla next to his side. They weren't close enough to be able to each other. Yet.

"Yeah, no thanks to you," James shot back.

"He's a fiesty one," Darla said with her arms crossed. "I can tell by his fighting style. Stubborn, and not easy to give up."

"What a shame, Darla," the man said, his eyes still fixated on James.

"You learn all of that in Psychology 101?" James snipped, sounding both annoyed and bored.

"We only want you to cooperate," the man said in an almost mocking tone. "Can you do that for the good of the clan? And your life?"

"I thought you wanted me alive," James said bitterly. "Didn't know death was an option, but it's looking pretty nice right now."

"Of course we want you to be alive," he continued like it was obvious. "But I suppose children don't need their birth father their whole life."

"Bold of you to assume I'd have children with any of you," James shot back.

"Think about the possibilities of what we can accomplish," he continued with a glint in his eyes. "Time powers, in the genepool. Being able to finally match the government. To control and take back the government stolen from us. Surely you must want the same thing."

"A corrupt government under another corrupt leader hardly sounds like an improvement to me," James said, quietly starting to rotate his wrists in the cuffs. They were so tight he swore they were cutting off his circulation to his hands.

The man looked at him with a displeased expression before shifting his attention to Darla.

"It sounds like he doesn't want what we want, Darla," he said.

"Can I make him want it?" she said with a smirk. "Can I play with him?"

"Do what you must."

James started to brace himself for Darla to approach, but instead of her approaching, it was the sewer water on the floor, trickling towards him and then lifting up into the air as a ball. Before James could even react to it, Darla flicked her hand, and the ball of water covered his mouth and nose. He couldn't breathe.

"Like this, Mathias?" Darla asked him.

The man -- Mathias, nodded while keeping his eyes fixated on James struggling to breathe. James shot him a steely glare as he held his breath.

"You ought to take back your wish of death," Mathias said. "Don't you want to see your companions again?"

James knew he could only hold his breath for a little over a minute at most. He had a feeling they were willing to test that limit.

"What's wrong?" Darla said with a snicker. "Can't breathe? Why aren't you answering our leader?"

James sent another spiteful glare to Darla, but he could feel his lungs straining as the seconds ticked painfully on.

"Poor, lost soul," Mathias said with a clicking of his tongue. "Lost his way. Nowhere to go, no one to save him. Not even the time bitch thought you were worth saving."

James closed his eyes, knowing that he was fading.

"But that's what happens with you time bastards, isn't it?" he went on with a sinister smile. "You always turn your backs on each other."

Darla suddenly let the water go as it dropped to his clothes and the floor beside him, and James gasped, coughing and spitting out sewer water that tasted like vomit.

"But not here," Mathias continued as he watched James carefully. "Not on Gaea. We will always treat you like family, because you are family. Or, will be." He paused. "If you cooperate."

James looked up at Mathias with a piercing gaze.

"Two words," he said hoarsely. "Fuck. You."

"Shame," Mathias said again. "Darla?"

Darla let out a giddy laugh and then returned the water to his mouth and nose, drowning him again.

"I forgot to mention," Mathias said after too many seconds ticked by. "You don't have a choice."

This time, Darla didn't let up, and the water persisted in blocking up his airways until he was seeing spots, and his lungs couldn't take it any more. Darla and Mathias turned into a blurry picture, and he passed out again.

When he started coming back this time, he could feel the cold of hard concrete underneath him. He was on his back, and what was tugging him back to reality was a repeated movement. Someone was lifting his wrist up and down, letting it drop to the floor, and then picking it back up again.

"I think he's dead," a boy's voice said in the direction of his arm being picked up.

James slowly turned his head to the source of the voice and let out a low groan. He halfway opened his eyes, looking up at a scrawny little boy who looked to be about 5 years old. It looked like the room he was in was completely closed in. No windows. No way out, apart from a door, probably, that would be locked.

The boy seemed to notice him stir, and his face lit up in excitement.

"He's alive!" he said. "Daddy, he's alive!"

Looking around the room some more, James noticed that there were quite a few people. Two boys, a girl who looked like she barely knew how to walk, and a man in his late twenties. The man was sitting on a tattered bed in the corner and wearing dirtied rags, and he looked at James with concern in his eyes.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

James tried to focus his eyes on the man, but his vision still felt hazy. He grunted as he sat up, taking a few steady breaths. He could still taste sewer water in his mouth.

"Where am I?" he asked instead of answering.

The man seemed to slump back in his bed a bit, looking at him with deep empathy and understanding in his eyes. Like he had been through what he was going through before.

"Gaea's holding cell," he said. "It's just outside the City of Angels. Used to be a prison." He paused as he looked around the room with a grimace. "Still is."

James glanced at the children in the holding cell. He had to bite back many different comments that he wanted to spew since he was in the presence of children.

"You smell bad," the boy next to him said, his big brown eyes looking at him curiously.

"Maybe you will too when you get older," James said, feeling his eyes finally starting to come into focus. There was a door, but it could only be opened from the outside, and it looked like it was made of a heavy metal.

The boy giggled and then ran up to the man, who was also holding the other two children. The girl looked to be sleeping, and the other younger boy seemed to be shyly hiding behind the man.

"What's your name?" the man asked.

"Matt," James said, looking at the man and his boy. "Yours?"

"Forrest," he said with a small understanding smile.

It took James a second to fill in the blanks. Forrest. Josiah and Daisy's son. He'd gone off to start a new settlement called Gaea. Except, clearly, this was not at all what Josiah and Daisy thought.

He bit back a curse as the realization hit.

"You're Daisy's son," James said quietly.

Forrest stared at James with wide eyes, unable to speak for a few moments.

"You... you know my mother?" he asked just as quietly. "You've met her? Where? Is she okay?"

"I--" James stopped, glancing around the cell. "We're not being monitored, are we?"

Forrest's gaze seemed to turn vacant as he slowly turned his chin up towards a small camera at the upper corner of the room. "We're always being monitored," he said quietly.

James turned to look into the camera, and for only a second, he stared into it with great intensity, but then turned back to Forrest.

"She's fine," he whispered. "That's all I can tell you."

"And... my wife?" he asked with a shaky breath.

"Yes," James said. He tried to meet Forrest's eyes, to tell him that Roselle and his kids were okay. He didn't want Forrest saying more that was unecessary.

"And--?" Forrest said, but trailed off.

"Yes," James said quickly.

His eyes started to water and he slowly leaned forward, burying his face in his hands.

"Thank god," he whispered. "I'm glad."

James glanced at the children in the cell for a moment. Forrest had left Terra 6 months ago, and all of the kids were far too old for any of them to be his. But that didn't mean that there weren't kids potentially on the way.

James took in a deep breath and inched closer to Forrest, setting a hand on his back as a quiet show of comfort. He let Forrest sit with his face buried for a long moment before he broke the silence.

"How long have you been here?" James asked softly.

Forrest must have been crying silently since he didn't make any noise, but he took a shaky breath and wiped his face before setting his arms back down on his lap, staring vacantly ahead.

"About five months," he said in a monotone voice.

"So you didn't get very far," James whispered with understanding.

"No," he whispered back. "I was the only one." He took another long, shaky breath. "I was the only one they took in."

"And... the others?" James asked even quieter.

Forrest hesitated, then turned his head to meet James's gaze. He could see the emptiness behind his dead eyes. Forrest was telling him they were gone.

"I'm so sorry," James said softly.

"The tribe is bigger than anyone could have known," Forrest whispered. "They populate the City of Angels. No one knew. No one."

"That's how they work," James said quietly. "They don't want anyone to know. That's how they're able to get away with..."

He trailed off, glancing at the little boy who peeked his head out from behind Forrest's knees.

"We're not the only ones," Forrest said emptily. "There are others like us. And some women, too. Women they..." He didn't finish his sentence.

James's heart sank into his gut. He could understand the weight of the implications without Forrest saying a word. He slowly pulled his hand away from Forrest.

"Pure evil," Forrest suddenly hissed with venom. "They are pure evil."

James felt the same sense of dread and spite, but he also felt the weight of helplessness slowly lower itself down onto him. This entire situation was far out of his control. Before, he'd only been thinking about trying to get himself out of the situation, finding Elliot, finding Evaline, and escaping.

But he couldn't just leave these people here. How could he? Why did he deserve to be free when Forrest was being held captive with other men and women who were being forced to breed like animals? What made him any different?

James quietly got to his feet and wandered over to the opposite wall, leaning back on it as he looked out at the children and Forrest with a sober expression.

If he had a useful power... maybe he could actually come up with a way out. Hell, if he actually had magic, that would be far more useful than seeing into other people's undone memories.

James glanced back up at the camera, wondering if he compromised it if it would only come back to bite Forrest, and the children. He didn't trust the Gaea clan to play fair, and he couldn't let the others suffer because he was angry and helpless.

So instead, he let the silence fill the room until the children started to speak up.

"I can still smell you from here," the older boy said again.

"Bryan," Forrest scolded softly. "Be nice."

"But he smells bad!" Bryan protested.

"That's what happens when you get splashed with sewer water," James said, softening his tone. "Sorry I smell."

Forrest seemed to shoot him a sad, understanding look, but that didn't stop Bryan's comments.

"Ewwwww!" he said.

"What's... sewer?" the other boy said shyly.

"It's poop," Bryan said. "He played with poop water."

"It's not as entertaining as it sounds," James said. "I wouldn't do it again."

"Why'd you play with poop water?" Bryan asked him.

"Bryan," Forrest scolded again, this time more of a warning, but Bryan didn't seem to heed to it.

"It was more of an accident, really," James said. "I didn't mean to."

"Did you fall in a toilet?" Bryan said with a giggle.

"Yeah," James said, forcing a slight smile. "I was sitting on it and then oop!" He mimed a slipping motion with his hands. "Accident."

Both boys started to laugh, and the noise and rocking motions seemed to wake the small girl up, who was curled on the the other side of the bed. She slowly sat up straight with tangled hair across her face, but when she saw James, she started to cry. Forrest picked her up and started to cradle her, saying soft words in her ear, but she was still crying while staring at James.

"Hey, your poop accident woke her up!" Bryan said, still laughing.

"Sorry," James apologized softly to Forrest.

"It's okay," Forrest said with a soft smile as he glanced up at him. "Kitty is shy, and the boys seem happy. No need to apologize."

James nodded slightly, and he sat back down, looking to the boys.

"Want to hear another story about big 'ol clumsy Matt?" he asked with a small, but growing smile.

The boys glanced at each other but then let out a big smile as their eyes lit up.

"Yeah!" Bryan said excitedly.

James smiled, and then leaned forward. He proceeded to tell them several stories where he'd faceplanted in the mud, tripped and flipped over various objects, or belly-flopped into the water. He put a lighthearted twist to the real-life stories, leaving out many of the reasons he'd ended up getting hurt - like the pressures of running for his life, or from bounty hunters. He only told a handful of stories, and each one seemed to send the boys into fits of giggles. Eventually, Kitty's crying died down as Forrest was able to soothe her with rocking, and the boys started to look sleepy, so Forrest called them all to bed.

James let Forrest lead the children to bed as he tucked them in. James watched as the three children curled up together and started to fall asleep. As Forrest stepped away from the bed for a moment, he turned to James.

"I am sorry you are here as well," Forrest said soft enough to not disturb the kids. "But whatever happens, we'll get through this, and I am here to support you."

James wasn't sure what his future looked like, but he knew it wasn't going to be good. He flashed Forrest a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Forrest," James whispered.

Forrest returned the smile, but it was pained. "Let's get some sleep," he said. "We can talk more tomorrow."

James would've argued jokingly that he'd already gotten unknown amounts of "sleep" from being knocked out for portions of the day, but he knew better to keep his mouth shut. Forrest turned back to the bed and got in, letting the kids pile on top of him as a pillow.

James took the cold, hard floor.

It was strange. Strange that this all felt so familiar, and yet so different. He was captured, just for different reasons now.

He almost preferred being wanted for a crime than for his ability to reproduce.

Several hours passed, and James only slept for a small fraction of it as he laid on the floor - and then eventually sat on the floor, because his back was killing him. Eventually - finally he heard the door open, and saw two people come in with bowls of porridge for what he assumed to be breakfast.

James considered trying to slip past them, but he saw that behind the open door, there was another closed door that was barred behind them.

The people seemed to look down at them all with disgust, throwing the trays on the floor before leaving without saying another word. Forrest and the kids seemed to wake up from the commotion, yawning and stirring awake.

But suddenly there was a ruckus outside the door. Clatters, bangs, and then - an explosion. There were yells and heavy footsteps. Something was happening, but the door had shut, and they were kept in the dark.

There was a long, eerie silence. Forrest and the kids were now alert and awake, clutching the blankets as they stared at the door with wide eyes. Forrest glanced at James a few times, as if he was asking him with his eyes if he knew what was going on. James silently shook his head, but he stood on his feet at attention, just a little ways from the door.

There was a jingle of keys, and suddenly the door creaked open. Smoke first drifted into the room, concealing who the person or people were for a moment. But when it disipatted, James could recognize who it was.

It was Evaline, breathing heavily with a cloth mask over her mouth, her hair a mess and her eyes sleepless but frantic. She immediately stepped forward and took James's hand, not saying a word as she started to yank him out of the room, already running.

James wanted to stop and turn back to help Forrest and the kids, but he found himself running alongside her, being dragged. He glanced back and saw Forrest and Bryan peek out of the cell in confusion. James tried to mouth the word: go before the billowing smoke in the hall swallowed up all sight of them.

Evaline suddenly pushed him down fiercely until they down on all fours, and it was a second later that he realized why: guns shot them where they just were, shooting in rapid fire. Evaline took out a smoke bomb from her pack and threw it far, setting another wave of smoke before she grabbed his hand and led him away again, not bothering to be gentle.

The noise deafeaned him. Evaline seemed to know what she was doing, able to predict when guns were shot, where people would be, and what exact route she should take. They were miraculously able to leave the building, but before they stepped outside, Evaline turned towards him for a second, her hands firmly holding his shoulders as he met her deadly serious eyes.

"Listen to me," she said, voice cool. "This is the only way. You have to trust me. Okay?"

James wasn't going to question it, even though he had a million questions.

"Okay," he said with severity.

Evaline closed her eyes for a moment as her hand slid down his shoulder back to his hand, and for a second, she gently squeezed him. Like she was saying she was sorry, and she cared.

And then she pulled him away again, towards the exit.

The rays of the early morning sunlight hit his eyes, and after his vision adjusted for a moment, he was able to see a ring of gang members surrounding them. Darla and Mathias were there as well.

Mathias slowly clapped as Evaline froze with James in tow.

"Impressive," he said. "This must be the work of time power. Always getting what you want. Isn't that right... Evaline?"

"It seems that you know all about us," she said as she shoved James behind her. "I'm impressed you know the enemy so well."

"Hah!" Mathias bellowed. "You are not the enemy, but you know that. Do I need to remind you of your place?"

"No need," Evaline said cooly. "The enemy's enemy is your friend. Isn't that right?"

Mathias placed his hand on his chin. "Are you proposing what I think you're proposing?"

"We should work together," she said. "I can do so much more for your clan besides being a breeder. Other women can do that. Me? I can do so much more for you."

The gang members seemed to glance at each other, exchanging looks.

"I'm listening," Mathias said.

"I'm the most capable time traveler," Evaline continued as she took a step forward. "I can infiltrate your way to the sectors. Tell you what went wrong, how you can do better. Prevent your family's deaths, predict what they will do. I want them down as much as you do. With my predictions and your strength, we can finally let a new era begin."

"How ironic," Mathias said with a smirk. "That you want to do that again."

"You've heard wrong," Evaline said defensively. "I only want to restore history. The sectors were a mistake. The tribal communities should remain in power, like they have in history. Only the strongest should rule over the weakest."

"She's lying, boss," Darla said. "They always lie."

Evaline put her hands up innocently. "I'm sorry I had to have the conversation this way. I wanted to show you what I can do." She glanced behind at James, but the look behind her eyes were empty. "I don't care what you do with him. He's a living relic of the past. I think he's an appropriate tribal token." She turned back to face Mathias. "Don't you?"

"All this work, just to prove that point?" Mathias said with doubt in his voice.

"What can I say," she said with a smirk. "I've always been the dramatic one."

She then took James by the arm and shoved him towards Mathias.

"At least treat your souvenirs with some respect," she said dismissively to Mathias. "Don't put him in a ragged prison. Is that too much to ask for?"

Mathias whistled, and suddenly vines grew out of the ground and snaked their way around his feet and hands, tying him up.

"Take him to the sun room, then," Mathias said with a wave of his hands.

"Is that the room with fertile women?" Evaline asked. "You want to take him there. Trust me, you'll want his power in your gene pool."

Mathias raised his brow and smirked. "I've always known you were a traitor, but I didn't know you were a traitor to everyone you knew."

"Like I said," Evaline said slowly, not even glancing at James. "Only the strongest should rule over the weakest."

Mathias laughed. "It sounds like we have a lot to plan, enemy of my enemy," he said as he started to walk away with Evaline.

James watched as the two of them walked off only for a moment before he was yanked in the other direction. Someone swept up his bound legs and someone else grabbed the vines that had bound around his waist, toting him up so that he was off the ground, looking down at it. He tried to twist his head around to see who it was, but he couldn't see more than their feet. Whomever it was, they knudged his face with their knee, just hard enough to hurt a little.

"All of that just to get you an upgrade, huh," he heard Darla's voice mutter. "Lucky you. You'll have lots of fun in the sun room."

James growled deeply in his throat, and as Darla and her other hechman carried him over a patch of grass, he drew his legs up rapidly and kicked the man behind him in the groin. As his feet hit the ground, water rushed to his face, this time covering his mouth, nose, and eyes. Someone rushed behind him and grabbed the vines roped around his chest, holding him still.

Darla laughed maniacally in front of his face. "C'mon, now, Matt," she teased. "Don't be so angry. That's why she betrayed you, isn't it? Because you're an angry man?"

James looked through the blurred filter of water over his face and opened his mouth, letting the water flood in down his throat and nose. He tried to scream, but it was muffled by the water, and James felt somebody scoop him off the ground again. Vines started wrapping up his legs more tightly, going up his waist and to his arms until he was practically mummified, apart from his head.

James couldn't move, and he couldn't breathe, and his lungs were filling up with water.

Suddenly the water dropped around his face, soaking into his clothes and hair before landing on the ground. He couldn't stop coughing up the water in his lungs. It burned.

But that didn't stop Darla from doing it again, conjuring an even bigger ball of water so that it surrounding his whole head. Water sloshed in his ears.

"How does it feel? Winning a tournament, only to realize your powers are useless. Out here, you're practically powerless. Just a man full of anger and something that happens to be useful," she taunted.

It was then that she kneed him in his groin, presumably to get back for whomever he'd hit before. His groan was muffled by the water, and he stared up at her blurry face, trying to make out a feature, but all he could get was a shape.

"You'll be making yourself a whole lot more useful with us," she said, kicking him again in the side as the water continued to suffocate him. "So go make yourself useful, baby boy."

James felt his vision starting to blur, and he desperately wished for air. It felt like the vines were digging into his skin, and someone's arms came around him, roughly toting him over their shoulder. Still, the water didn't relent. Darla didn't relent. Just as he thought he would pass out again, the water was pulled from his face.

He gasped, but he wasn't able to get air, and something seemed to grab onto him, dragging him into a deep, deep slumber.

It didn't feel like sleep.

One moment, James was being carried away by Darla and the Gaea clan. The next, he was riding on Elliot, outside of the City of Angels. They were in the outskirts. They were in the outskirts. He could feel Evaline sitting in the saddle behind him, with her arms around her waist.

It was daytime. The sun had moved in the sky to its peak, which meant it was around noon. The sun was shining through the trees, and James stared up at it, feeling a strange sense of detachment and a lingering confusion that he knew could give way into panic if he let it.

What happened?

He wanted to say he blacked out, but if that was the case, he would've woken up on the floor somewhere. He wouldn't have just found himself riding a horse - and he couldn't even describe what he was experiencing as "waking up."

He looked around them, and glanced behind at Evaline. Elliot seemed to sense his sudden hesitation, and slowed ever so slightly.

"Do not stop," Evaline hissed in his ear as she tightened her grip around him. "Don't stop. No matter what. Not until I say so."

James urged Elliot forward on command, but he could feel his heart slowly starting to race as he tried to search his mind for a remembrance of anything after Evaline had gotten him out of the prison and surrendered him back to Mathias. But there was nothing. Nothing at all.

This wasn't a dream, was it? He hadn't fallen asleep? No, this didn't feel like a dream, and it didn't feel like a memory, but he found himself suddenly uncertain. He couldn't put it past the Gaea clan to drug him as punishment, or as a means to control his outbursts and make him more compliant. But this didn't feel like that. He could swear he was awake, lucid, and alert.

It was just like... he'd forgotten everything. Or like he'd almost skipped past it, somehow. His mind chose to move on.

It was unsettling, to say the least. He'd experienced this once before, but it hadn't felt as jarring, and he'd almost died then. He didn't feel death clinging to him, but he could feel bruises from where he'd been kicked, and other places he couldn't remember he'd been hit or not. It was hard to tell at this point how much of it was from the fight and how much of it was from the gang.

He looked down at his arm, where he could feel that his skin was tender, and itching. He could see raw skin peeking out of his sleeve, and he knew from experience that it looked and felt like a burn wound.

So, there was at least one injury he couldn't account for from memory.

He couldn't help the fact that his breathing started to quicken. He could feel a tender bruise that wrapped around his neck, and he knew from experience that it was from something choking him. It wasn't his first time being wrung out.

Had he really forgotten all of that torture?

His mind and heart were racing, but he kept quiet, feeling the severity of the situation with Evaline's single whispered warning. He didn't know what happened, but they'd gotten away, and he didn't want to jeopardize that by panicking. So he swallowed his confusion and his fear and buried it down, focusing on the present.

After about fifteen minutes of riding fast on Elliot, James noticed that at this point, all of Evaline's weight was on him, and her former tight grip around him started to loosen. He brought one hand down to her arms, gripping them to hold her in place so she didn't fall or let go.

"Don't stop," she whispered in his ear, and it sounded like a plea. "Not yet."

"Okay," he said softly.

Another ten or so minutes passed, and Evaline's grip started to slacken until it was nonexistent. The only thing holding Evaline's arms around him was him holding her, and she had fully put her weight on his back. He could feel that she was dangerously close to falling off if he jostled her too much, seeing as she wasn't holding herself up anymore.

James brought Elliot to a gradual slowed stop and slowly turned, still holding Evaline's arms, and then brought his other hand around her back to hold her steady.

"Evaline, are you okay?" he asked softly. He scanned her for wounds, hoping that she wasn't bleeding out from something he was unaware of.

It didn't appear that she suffered from physical injuries, but her face was flushed with heat and sweat, like she was suffering from a fever. Her head hung limp as she was unable to make eye contact with him, and she was breathing heavily.

"Fine," she whispered. "Go."

"Evaline, I'm here," James said quietly, trying to assure her. He twisted around in the saddle a little more, bringing both his arms around her as he pulled her up straighter, trying to look into her flushed face. He put his hand on her forehead, feeling for a fever. It both felt and looked like it could have been a fever.

"James," she said with closed eyes, but then gritted her teeth and didn't say anything more.

"You're sick," he said quietly. "Listen, I'm here."

He still didn't know how he'd gotten there, but he chose to push that panic aside again, focusing on Evaline.

"You need to rest," he said. "You're practically falling out of the saddle."

Evaline finally weakly tilted her chin up to look at him with half-lidded eyes, and he could tell she was exhausted. Physically, and mentally.

"No," she said as she dropped her gaze. She took a shaky, deep breath. "We need... to escape."

"We're already out of the city," he said. He looked out into the forest, searching it. "Do you really think they're still tailing us?"

Evaline was silent for a moment, but suddenly, tears started to flow from her eyes as she started to cry, leaning her head forward.

"I don't know," she said through a sob.

James hugged her close without hesitation, and he thought back to the last time he could remember seeing her. She had broken into the prison and helped him get out, and even for that alone, there was no telling how many times she went back in time to make sure it worked. She'd known where people would shoot, and seemed to even know where the conversation would go. She had to at least have gone back a dozen times, if not more, and he couldn't help but feel like in that moment, he'd failed her.

He should've suspected the whole 'afterparty' thing was fake from the start. He should've gone with her to get her bike.

He should've never entered that stupid competition in the first place. Then, none of this would've happened.

"It's okay," he said softly, letting her cry into his shoulder. "You did everything you could. We're okay now. We're going to be okay. We can keep going, if you want, just to be sure. But you need to sleep, and I don't want you to fall off of Elliot."

For a few minutes, Evaline continued to cry until it faded to just quiet sniffles, and then eventually she seemed to fade, barely conscious, limp and still in his arms.

"I'm going to keep riding," he said softly in her ear. "But I'm going to tie you around me, so you don't fall. Let yourself sleep."

He let Evaline's weight lean on him as he reached his arm around to the horn of the saddle where he had a loop of rope hanging loosely. He unwound it and gently and carefully wrapped it around Evaline's waist tying her to him so that she wouldn't sway or fall over. He left half of the rope still around the horn of the saddle and made sure Evaline was securely leaning on him before he kept riding forward.

Did he have any idea where he was going? No. But there was a faint trail that they had been following, so he continued to follow that, hoping that it wouldn't lead them too far astray.

James continued to ride for another four hours. The sun dragged across the sky like a snail, and Evaline stayed limply asleep, leaning against his back. James continued pushing the missing hours of the day to the back of his mind, but it kept creeping back. He still didn't know what had happened, and he couldn't help but feel like there was more to it. He couldn't explain what felt wrong about it, but it was almost like... like he hadn't missed the time...

No, that wasn't possible. He wasn't a real time traveler. He was probably just delirious. He'd hardly slept. He needed to get a clear head before he tried explaining what had happened with powers.

After about four hours, James could sense that Elliot was growing a little weary and needed a break, so he slowed them once again to a stop, and he carefully twisted around to look back at Evaline. She was still out, and it looked like she still had a fever. James didn't know how much movement would disturb her, but he decided to gingerly untie the rope, and he then twisted around and carefully brought one of Evaline's legs to the other side of the saddle. He brought her knees over his leg and held her up with an arm around her shoulders, under her arms.

Then, with one hand holding onto the horn of the saddle, he brought his leg around to the same side, so they were both sitting off the edge of the saddle. Percariously balanced, James leaned Evaline's head into his chest and brought one arm around her back to support her, and one arm under her legs. Quickly, but steadily, he hopped down, bearing both of their weight on bended knees before he stood back up.

Elliot seemed happy to no longer be bearing the weight, and James looked down at Evaline. She had turned her face upwards, and she looked up at him distantly, like she was still only half-conscious.

"We're far out of the city, now," he said softly. "We're okay. Elliot just needs a little break."

As if she was wordlessly saying thank you, she angled her head back down towards his chest and closed her eyes.

James glanced back at Elliot, who was helping himself to the grass, starting to graze. He slowly lowered Evaline down to the ground, gently laying her down in a patch of grass. She still looked to be fast asleep, and beyond exhausted.

He sat beside her for a moment, looking down at her with his eyebrows creased with worry, and he felt her forehead again. She was still warm.

He didn't think he'd be able to get her to drink water in her asleep state, but he knew she'd need it soon. He could at least try.

He walked over to Elliot and tied Elliot with a long lead to a tree, and then pulled out his canteen. Fortunately, it still had water in it, and he brought it over to Evaline. Carefully, he put his arm behind her back and his hand under her head to support it, and he leaned her upright.

"Evaline," he said softly. "I need you to drink some water for me. Then you can go back to sleep, okay?"

Evaline looked like she was stirring, but wasn't quite awake.

"Evaline," he said at a more normal volume, but still soft. "It'll only be a minute."

He held the canteen out in front of her.

Finally, her eyes slowly opened again as she stared blankly at the canteen in front of her. She let out a weak groan as her hand slowly reached out to grab the canteen, but it was obvious she wouldn't be able to hold the full weight by herself. He helped her hold it with one hand, while he still held up her head and supported her back with his other arm.

After she took a few small gulps with water leaking down and dripping down her chin, she suddenly pulled away and started to cough, turning away from James as she curled on her side.

James quickly set the canteen to the side and joined her by her side, unsure if she was choking. He helped pull her up into a sitting position to keep her from choking on the water, and he held her up. She eventually stopped coughing, but it seemed like she had the chills, and she was burning up.

"Evaline," he said softly. "Can you tell me how you're feeling?"

It was a question to determine how coherent she was at the moment. He had a feeling she wasn't going to be very responsive for a while.

"Mmmm," was all he was able to get out of her as she seemed to lean into his arms, slipping back into a loss of consciousness.

James knew he was going to have to figure this out on his own, and he was going to have to take care of Evaline. Gently, he laid her back down on the ground. He was going to use this short rest to get his bearings.

He grabbed two blankets off of Elliot and brought them to Eve, using one to wrap around her and one to prop up her head and shoulders. He wet a small towel they had and laid it over her forehead before he dug around their things and found the map that Evaline had made, along with the one that Vance had given them. He spread them both out on the ground, comparing the two and figuring out where they were on each as he took note of the sun, their surroundings, and approximately where they were in relation to the City of Angels. Evaline had a compass that helped him make sure that he had everything right.

According to the maps, they weren't too far from the rendezvous point with Elise, but he was able to deduce that they only had three days to reach her. That meant they'd have to make as much distance as they could every day.

He gave Evaline another worried glance.

He could do this. He could get them there, and if Evaline still wasn't well, hopefully the others would have medicine, or something that could help her recover. He just hoped that he hadn't somehow gotten Evaline deathly sick with no way of getting her healthy again.

The next few days went by quietly, with James continuing to carry Evaline on and off the saddle as she drifted in and out of consciousness. He noticed that Evaline seemed to nod off every hour or so, and she'd come back, but never to full alertness. He had to help her eat, drink, and do everything else throughout the day, but he did it without complaint and without resentment.

He was honestly just worried. Worried that the clan might've gotten her sick with something on purpose, or that this was a severe side effect from using her powers that he didn't know about. Worried that there were gaps in his memory, and wondering if there were gaps in hers too.

The day before they were to meet up with Elise and the others, James had managed to get them within a only a few short miles of the rendezvous point. He'd barely slept, and Elliot had been faithfully walking long hours throughout the day, helping them make good distance. James found himself glad that he'd grown used to this, and so had Elliot. Both of them were well aquainted with having to push themselves for short periods of time out of necessity, and they'd build up that endurance over years of struggle.

James only hoped that Evaline would pull through.

It was dark, and James had laid Evaline by the small fire he'd built, with her head propped up with blankets, a blanket around her to keep her warm, and a canteen of water by her side in case she needed it. She was sleeping soundly as James sat by the fire, staring out into the forest, continually scanning the area for threats or dangers. Elliot was sleeping soundly as well, and James was glad for it. He needed it.

It was in the middle of the night when Evaline started to stir, and James jerked awake from sleep - his eyes had been wide open, but he'd drifted off somehow.

He crawled over to Evaline to see if she needed anything.

It felt like a long, dreamless sleep. Or maybe she was dreaming. Evaline was able to remember moments when James was looking down at her at various points of time and places, looking worried and tired. But any time she tried to think about it, she only feel deeper into the abyss of her mind, like it was forcing her to rest her brain and not think.

She didn't know how much time had passed by the time it felt like her mind was allowing her to think again. It was a slow, agonizing moment, and she felt the panic trickle in slowly.

Evaline stirred under the blankets for a bit as her face felt warm. She wasn't sure if it was because of her internal body temperature, or the fire, or both. She saw someone move in front of her, and a jolt of panic flowered through her for a moment, but when she drifted her eyes at the movement, she noticed it was just James.

James. Just James. They were safe.

"James...?" she called while still laying down, her throat feeling dry, and her voice sounding hoarse.

"I'm here, Evaline," he said softly. She saw his hand reach down beside her, lifting up a canteen.

Evaline stared at the canteen for a second, but then tightly closed her eyes as she mustered the courage to sit up straight. She moved slowly, her muscles feeling sore from atrophy. She was able to sit up upright but felt like she couldn't balance herself, which James seemed to sense since he reached out to stabilize her, his arm wrapping under her shoulders.

"Thanks," she said as a hoarse whisper, reaching out for the canteen with both hands to bring it to her lips.

James let her take control, but helped her lift the bottle so she didn't have to bear the whole weight. She felt parched, and she only stopped drinking so that she could get a breath of air - which was what she did exactly when she brought the bottle away: gasp for air.

"Take it easy," he said softly. "The water's not going anywhere."

Evaline took a few deep breaths as she set her weight against James's arm behind her, and then angled her head to look up at his face. He was watching her with a weary-eyed concern, but there was a softness in his eyes, despite how the bruise under one of his eyes had spread, and started yellowing.

"How long has it been?" she asked with the same soft tone. She couldn't hide the anxiety in her voice.

"About three days," he said quietly. "We're less than half a day's travel from the rendezvous point."

Three days. She was asleep, sick, for three days. It was happening again. There was no turning back. Did she want this? No. She didn't want this. This time, this was an accident.

Evaline didn't know how to properly react, gazing distantly past him as she let the familiar unfiltered fear and anxiety course through her head, teasing her with one intrusive thought after another.

She let the silent stretch on for far too long to be comfortable, but James sat quietly with her, holding her up while still holding the bottle of water in front of her. After about thirty seconds of silence and staying still, she wordlessly reached out to drink the water again, this time breathing between slow sips until she was no longer thirsty.

"Thank you," she said as she watched James set the canteen down.

James nodded and silently lifted up his hand to her face, gently patting her cheek and forehead. She closed her eyes as he touched her face.

"Your fever is dying down," he said softly. "That's good. And you drank water by yourself, today. That's a good sign."

He sounded tired, but genuinely relieved.

Evaline should have been grateful. No, she was grateful. But she felt like she was drowning in the war going on in her head, and she felt her walls come up - this time, barbed and dangerous.

"Don't talk to me like that," she said quietly as she turned away, not wanting to face him.

James seemed unfazed.

"And you're talking more too," he said.

"Stop," she whispered, feeling her eyes glisten. She wanted him to stop.

"I don't know what you want me to stop," he said softly. "I'm just glad you're getting better."

Evaline grit her teeth and blinked hoping she'd be able to push away the pent-up tears behind her eyes, but it only caused a few tear drops to roll down her cheeks, and she further turned away from James in shame.

"I can't do this," she whispered as she bit back a cry.

James kept his hand on her back as she turned away.

"You're not doing this alone," he said quietly.

"You don't understand," she said briskly, the tears coming down anyways as she curled away from James. "James, you don't understand why..." she said more quietly, trying to hide herself away from him despite behind in his arms.

"I know," James whispered. "But I want to, if ever you want to explain. But you don't have to. It's okay."

Evaline controlled her breathing, in an out, still feeling hot tears roll down her cheeks despite her protest to conceal. But that was just it. She couldn't conceal.

"I'm feeling again," she confessed, barely an audible whisper as she gazed distantly towards the fire, away from James as she continued to bite back the cries.

This time, instead of offering soft words of assurance, James gently brought his arms all the way around her, and he pulled her into a hug, holding her firmly, but not saying anything.

This wasn't what she wanted. She didn't want to feel again, she didn't want him to say it was okay, she didn't want him to console her - because this wasn't helping. She had done this before, and she wasn't going to repeat it. Not again. Not with the same person.

Evaline didn't return the hug, her head propped on his shoulder as he held her tightly in an embrace. She breathed heavily, unable to stop the tears from coming down.

"I don't want to," she said weakly. "I don't want this."

"I know," was all he whispered into her ear, but still he didn't pull away, and he didn't leave.

"I don't want it," she said again, feeling a sob coming up from her throat. "I don't want it. I don't want it. I don't want it."

James silently started to rub her back with his thumb in an up-and-down motion, but all he did was continue to hold her close. Little did he know, this only made her feel a pang of sadness and melancholy as another hazy memory replayed in her mind without her consent.

Them, in Nye. Five years ago when she was desperately trying to feel something, because she wanted to again. And then feeling something real when James hugged her like this as she cried in his arms.

It was almost poetic that it happened again. Or perhaps it was a tragedy, because this time, she didn't want this. She didn't want this to happen again.

Evaline sobbed as a string of unnamed emotions swirled in her chest, and she weakly put her hands on his back, not quite a hug in return, but something to ground her.

"I don't want to do this again," she said through a loud cry, her voice muffled by talking through his shoulder that was already wet from her tears. "I don't want this."

But still, James patiently listened and kept his embrace, his thumb still rubbing her back up and down. She wanted him to stop, but a part of her wanted him to stay. She couldn't make up her mind. She didn't know what she wanted, but she didn't want this. She didn't want this.

It was like a dam had finally been released as years of pent-up emotion seemed to purge out of her, and Evaline sobbed for minutes on end in his patient arms. She didn't know how much time had passed, but she was hoping that she could get rid of the emotions until she was numb. It didn't seem possible. Her eyes had dried up, and she didn't feel any different.

James still held her, but Evaline weakened her grip around him, feeling so, so exhausted. She had nothing else to say or do besides stay there in silence with his arms around her as she occasionally sniffed.

James didn't fully pull away, but she felt one of his arms leave, and he inched the canteen into her view.

"Do you want some water?" he asked softly.

Evaline knew she needed it, but she didn't want it right now.

"No," she croaked.

"Okay," James said, leaving the canteen beside her, within both her view and her reach. "It's right there when you want it."

She then felt him shuffle a little, though he still kept one arm around her, holding her close. He pulled out what looked like a handkerchief, and he brought it up to her face, gently wiping away some of her crusted tears. Evaline let him do this, but she was too afraid to face him, so she stayed still and didn't say anything. He finished gingerly wiping her face before tucking the handkerchief away again in one of his pockets.

Another very long pause passed. She was still being cradled by James's arm, with her shoulder against his chest.

"Do you want to go back to sleep?" he asked quietly.

Evaline took a deep breath as she gaze idly out towards the small fire lighting the dark wildernees around them.

"Yes," she whispered, wanting this to be over.

"Okay," James said softly. He slowly pulled away from her, but kept his hand on her back, as if to hold her steady. Without making eye contact, he laid her down slowly since she was still limp in his arm. Evaline didn't care how undignifying this was. She was just so exhausted.

Once on the ground, she curled away away from him, shielding her face and closing her eyes, hoping this was all a dream. Wishing this was all a dream.

"If you get thirsty," James whispered again. "The water's right next to you. And if you need me, I'll be by the fire."

And then she could hear the slight shuffling of his feet as he got up, and moved away.

Evaline should have said something. A thank you, or some kind of acknowledgement, especially since he was going to stay up for her. But she said nothing, because she wanted to be nothing, and feel nothing.

Even when she knew that this was her reality now, whether she went to sleep or not.

Evaline woke up at the crack of dawn, suddenly feeling well-rested and more aware. She felt a heaviness in her chest, but what bothered her more was her ravenous hunger and insatiable thirst. She slowly opened her eyes, finding it hard to open due to the dried tears holding it back.

Right. Tears...

She knew she was feeling again. Or rather, unable to conceal. And she told James. And she cried in his arms for minutes on end. And then she went to sleep.

She wasn't sure if she was supposed to be embarrassed, or ashamed, or scared. A part of her wanted to close her eyes and deny this was happening, but she shoved that impulse down as she started to slowly sit up straight, her eyes drifting to fire.

She noticed that it was still going, and there was a pan over the fire with food. James was cooking, and she saw him sit over it, but didn't look up at his face. She didn't even know what to say as she sat up.

"It's almost ready," James said, clearly talking about the food.

Evaline's eyes drifted to the food on the pan. He was cooking up chopped vegetables and potatoes, and she could smell the spices he put into it. He had never cooked breakfast for her like this. At least, not that she could remember.

Wordlessly, she bunched up the blankets and crawled in front of the fire across from him, trying to think of what to say. Trying to face him. She couldn't do either yet.

"I hope you're hungry," James said as he pulled the pan away from the fire. It looked like he already had two bowls with forks set out, and he scraped the food into each one, half and half, though one he divided just a little more into. She noticed he picked up that one and walked around the fire, offering it to her.

Evaline stared at the bowl for a second before slowly reaching up to take it. "Thank you," she said softly as she held it to her chest, looking down at it.

James returned to where he sat on the other side of the fire, picking up his bowl.

"Now eat," he said, already getting his own forkful. "You need your strength."

Evaline wanted to eat. She did. But it killed her inside to know that eating meant they'd have to draw out the silence some more, and she wasn't sure how much more of this she could take. She knew James cooked her breakfast because of last night, and she wished he would just talk about it now rather than draw this out, because this didn't make her feel any better.

"Listen," she finally said, still not looking up at him. "About last night..."

She trailed off because she realized she didn't even know how to finish that sentence.

She could see James glance up at her out of the corner of her eye, but he didn't say anything. His mouth was also full.

Why can't you just finish my sentence for me? she childishly thought as she let out a sigh.

"Can we... can you..." she started, but wasn't committed to the start of those sentences. "I was sick," she said flatly instead after another long pause.

James swallowed his food before speaking.

"Yes," he said slowly. "You've been sick for three days."

"Yes," she said slowly. "But I was very sick yesterday."

James hummed in what sounded like disbelief, and he took another bite of food.

"Your fever broke yesterday," he said simply.

"No, it broke today," she said stubbornly as she narrowed her eyes at her food.

"As the one who was checking your fever," he said. "I know it broke last night. Technically, you could call that today. But it was in the middle of the night."

Evaline had to repress a groan as she suddenly ate a forkful of food, using the time to chew as a way to stall.

"I think you misremember," she said flatly after she swallowed.

She could hear James's fork clink against his bowl as he got another bite to eat.

"You've been in and out of consciousness the last three days," he said. "I don't expect you to remember much correctly, or at all."

This conversation wasn't going the way she thought it would go, and she found deflection to be natural on her tongue.

"What happened the last three days?" she asked instead.

"You slept a lot. We traveled a lot. I made sure you got food and water," he said. "That's about it, until your fever broke and you woke up last night."

Evaline took another bite, chewing slowly so she could think this through.

"How did you feed me if I was asleep?" she challenged.

"You had brief moments of semi-consciousness," he said. "I think you understood enough to chew, which was enough for me."

That sounded right, but she couldn't be sure.

"And... travel?" she asked. "How did we travel if I was asleep?"

"I tied you up so you wouldn't fall off the saddle," James said. "Or sometimes I'd just hold you in front of me instead, when you were especially sleepy."

Evaline decided to only focus on on the first part of what he said.

"You tied me to--" she began as she finally looked up at his face, but then faltered when she realized how bruised and battered he was. She couldn't help but stare.

The first thing she noticed was his neck, black and blue, patterned like it came from a noose. His face was especially battered with spots of black, blue, and yellow, especially around his eye and nose. There was a scratch on his cheek, and when she flicked her eyes down for a moment, she realized that there was a wrapped bandage peeking out from under his sleeve.

Her heart sunk. She was reminded of their final time in Gaea, and how much he had suffered before they could escape.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I had to get creative."

"Your face," she said instead with her brows drawn together with worry. "You're hurt."

James blinked at her slowly.

"Yyyyes," he said. "I've... been hurt. But nothing too bad."

Evaline had to tear her gaze away as she looked down at her food in shame.

"It seems bad," she said softly.

"Looks worse than it feels," he said. "How about you? Are you feeling any better? Less feverish, I hope?"

"Do you need help with anything?" she asked instead, ignoring all his questions. "Or does it just need... time to heal?"

"Just time, really," he said, his voice steady and patient. "But what about you?"

"I'm fine," Evaline said quickly, clutching her bowl tighter. "I didn't get hurt."

"Sick is a type of hurt," James said. "Just different."

"That is different," she agreed. "Different sources."

The clinking against James's bowl came to a stop, and she could see him get to his feet. He didn't fully stand up as he came around to her.

"Let me just check to make sure, okay?" he asked, hovering his hand over her forehead.

Evaline stared at his hand in front of her, and for whatever reason, she wanted to classify his touch as a threat now. But she decided to push that thought aside and looked down.

"Sure," she said quietly. "But I know I'm fine."

James gently felt her forehead only for a few short seconds, and then he pulled his hand away and backed away to where his bowl was.

"Okay," he said softly. "You're in the clear. I just wanted to double check."

"I told you I was fine," she mumbled as she ate another big forkful.

James didn't reply, and instead did the same, taking another bite of his own food, and the result was the two of them once again sitting, eating in silence. James finished up before her, and he wordlessly started to clean up the supplies.

The unspoken words between them only started to prick at her more, and by the time she reached her last bite, she knew she couldn't hold it back anymore.

"I was delirious last night, and I didn't mean to be so emotional," she quickly blurted out, breaking the silence between them. "Just forget it."

James was standing by Elliot, stuffing supplies into the saddlebag. He turned to look at her over his shoulder.

"There's nothing wrong with being emotional," he said calmly. "I'm emotional sometimes too."

"It's different," she persisted with a hint of desperation in her voice when she met his eyes. "Eventually, I won't be able to go back in command. And I can't go back more than three times. It's limiting."

"Then we will learn how to be more careful, and we will adjust to new limits," he said as he turned briefly to buckle the saddlebag closed.

"That's what I thought last time!" she shouted, only realizing she was yelling until she was huffing for air. She closed her eyes, furrowing her brows together. "That's what I thought last time," she repeated more gently.

James walked towards her slowly, and he knelt down beside her, taking the bowl out of her lap.

"Sometimes a second chance is an opportunity to figure out how to do something better, not just an opportunity to fail again," he said softly as he pulled away, turning back toward Elliot to continue packing.

"But I know it will fail," she protested. "I don't want to do this again."

James was quiet for a moment as he stuck the bowl and fork in the back and strapped the bag shut again.

"If you have a choice not to," he said. "I will not stop you. But if this is something that truly cannot be reversed, then we'll figure it out, one day at a time. Fail or no fail."

Evaline dropped her gaze towards the dead fire, hating that she was feeling more pent-up sadness behind her eyes, but she knew she had no more tears to give out.

"I do have a choice," she said quietly. "But I don't want to do that again either."

James turned back around to her, and he walked up to her again, this time kneeling beside her and looking her in the face.

"I'm okay with waiting until you figure out what you really want," he said softly. "Until then, we do the best we can."

Evaline couldn't help but let a small, mirthless laugh tickle its way out of her throat as she shook her head and looked off to the side.

"How ironic," she said. "Both of us don't know what we want but will wait for each other to figure it out."

"I don't know if ironic is the word I'd use," James said softly. "I think it's nice."

"I was thinking more of cruel," she half-grumbled out.

"Uncertainty can always feel cruel in the waiting," James said, still speaking softly.

"Don't you feel that way too?" she asked as she snapped her head back towards him, noting his softened, tired eyes already meeting hers.

"Sometimes," he said. "But I remind myself that it's okay to wait if the heart is slow to know."

"I don't know how you have so much patience," Evaline said after a sigh.

"I don't really know either," James said with the slightest hint of a smile. "But I didn't always. I think it takes practice. You have to keep choosing to be patient. It's like a muscle."

Evaline paused for a moment, briefly biting her lip. "You've always been patient," she said quietly. "With me."

"That's because I want to," he said.

She slowly turned back towards him and looked in his eyes for few moments, now noting a small, sad and tired smile. She didn't know how to feel about any of this. She didn't know what she was feeling anymore.

"You haven't slept," she said softly as she looked away again. "Because of me."

"You were sick, and I was well enough to make sure we made distance and stayed safe," he said. "I didn't mind. You needed to get better. It's just how it was."

Evaline didn't know what happened for James to suddenly be showering her with patience and comforting words. It seemed like she didn't deserve it.

"I'm really, really sorry," she said quietly. "For what happened with Gaea. I'm sorry."

James's small smile faltered, and he averted his gaze.

"About that..." he said, looking at the ground. "I'm not sure how to explain this, but... I actually don't remember a large portion of what happened."

Evaline's apologetic expression melted away as she turned towards him again. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"The last thing I remember was you breaking me out of a prison cell. There were smoke bombs, and we emerged out of the building, surrounded by Gaea. You bargained with them that they could keep me, but under the condition that I was given better treatment. You handed me over to Mathias, and then..."

He stared down at the ground, his eyes looking unfocused.

"The next thing I knew, we were riding out of the city."

"You... don't remember anything that happened after that?" she asked softly in disbelief.

James quietly shook his head, not meeting her eyes.

"It was like... all I did was blink, and that time was just... gone," he whispered.

Evaline didn't know what this meant. Was this his body's way to disassociate, or was this something more? He couldn't remember anything past her turning him in, but maybe that was for the best.

"I know you don't remember," she said slowly after a long pause. "But I am still very sorry. All that matters now is that we're safe."

James stared down at the ground, and she could see his brows starting to knit together in worry.

"But I don't know if--" he started, flicking his eyes up at her, only for a moment. "I don't know what I did that whole time. Or what happened to me, or what anyone might've made me do..."

Evaline took a deep breath, sensing his growing anxiety since he was kept in the dark and truly didn't know what happened. She decided to retell what happened in his perspective in the best way she could from what she knew.

"I hope you know that turning you in was part of the plan," she started quietly. "I had to do it. It was the beginning of my cooldown period. I had to be strategic. It was the only way."

"I had a feeling that was the reason," James said softly. "You told me to trust you, and I did. And I do. I just... didn't expect to lose six hours' worth of memories."

Evaline swallowed. She remembered James's vacant, unreadable stare back at her hours after she parted, and it haunted her not knowing whether he still trusted her or not. He didn't even remember it.

She decided to keep going.

"You were taken to the sun room which slept several pregnant women," she said. "You were not forced to do anything."

She hoped that sentence alone was enough to ease his mind. She decided to not include the word "yet" because there really was no telling what would have happened if he stayed longer.

She could see his shoulders relax as he let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank gods," he muttered under his breath.

"I don't know what happened in there, though," she said softly. "I was only told you were to stay there temporarily."

James slowly nodded his head like he understood the implications. But she knew not all the implications were correct.

"You came back for me, at some point?" he asked.

"I did at the end. But..." She looked down at her hands, clasping them together. "You were brought to me instead," she said quietly. "Before we escaped."

James drifted his eyes up to her face, waiting for her to finish. A part of her wished he could fill the gaps himself, but she knew it was just better to come clean now and admit the full truth.

"I had to prove that they could trust me," she continued softly.

At that moment, James looked away to the ground, and she knew that he was beginning to put the pieces together, but she kept going anyways.

"They were sure I was doing this all for you," she said. "And they were right, obviously. But I couldn't let them know that. There was no other way. I had to act ruthless and indifferent. Even if..."

She bit her tongue, her eyes drifting back to the bruise around his neck, knowing she was partly responsible for that, even if indirectly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm really, really sorry."

James's shoulders drooped, and he slouched forward, like a wilting flower. He nodded slowly, almost as if to himself, and then she heard him take in a long, deep breath before letting it out.

He didn't quite look back up at her, but he sat up straighter again and instead of meeting her eyes, he reached over and took her hands in his. He didn't squeeze them, but he held them firmly.

"I understand," he said lowly. "And I forgive you."

But his voice sounded pained. Like he might've been holding back tears.

"I've lied to you," Evaline said with a shaky breath as she forced herself to look at his face so she could feel the shame. "I said I'd never hurt you. And I lied."

James slowly turned his face up to meet her eyes. His eyes were glistening with tears.

"But you came back to save me," he said quietly, his voice strained. "And I know it wasn't out of anger, or spite. I know you didn't want to."

Hearing his words and holding his glistening eyes broke something in her, and she couldnt hold back the abrupt tears that came down as she bit back a cry.

"I told them to do it," she said through a loud sob. "I told them to torture you."

The shame was too great and she looked down as she cried, but she found herself gripping his hands hard, like she was using them for stability. In response, James rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. She could hear him sniff.

"I'm not going to hold it against you," he said with a trembling voice. "And I'll say it again. I forgive you. For that too."

Evaline breathed short, heavy breaths as the hot tears streamed down her face, staring at his hands over hers. She dared to steal a glance up to his face, and she saw that his eyes were closed with tears streaming down his own face, visibly holding back cries like he was trying to be the stronger one.

Why was he letting her cry, when she was the one who inflicted this pain on him?

"I don't," she said as she tried to angrily stop her own tears from coming down so that James wouldn't feel the need to be stronger for her. "I can never forgive myself for what happened, but I'll live with it. I just hope--"

A sob hitched in her throat as she wasn't able to immediately finish her sentence. She took a shaky breath and tried again, feeling her stinging eyes relent from the sadness she was feeling as she looked him squarely in the face.

"I just hope you'll be able to withstand the pain I've caused you," she said quietly.

James met her eyes with tearful ones of his own, but then he started to smile. His eyes were still sad, and tears kept coming, but the smile came with a hiccup of a laugh that looked real. He shook his head.

"Careful, now, Eve," he said. "You're starting to sound like me."

Evaline stared at him, getting a hold of her emotions as she tried to process his words and reaction. A confusing mix of emotions seemed to swirl in her chest after awakening from a deep slumber.

"I-- I don't understand," she said quietly. "Why do you still trust me?"

"You've already earned my trust," he said just as quiet. "You don't have to earn it again."

"I've betrayed everyone whose trust I've earned," she said through a shaky breath. "Everyone."

James gave her hands a gentle squeeze.

"I don't think you betrayed me," he said softly. "Not in your heart."

She tightly closed her eyes for a second, trying to will herself to be the stronger one instead. She disliked that James was comforting her when she should have been comforting him. She was letting her own insecurities get the best of her. She was letting her emotions get the best of her.

"In risk of sounding edgy," she said in a monotone voice as she attempted to quote him. "I don't have a heart."

There was a small pause.

"That was edgy," James said softly. "But I respectfully disagree."

Evaline had managed to get her tears to stop, and she looked back up to his bruised face, wondering if he was going to elaborate, or if that was the end of his thought.

"People who are heartless never apologize and mean it," James said. "And I would dare to say, from the proof of your tears and your words, that you sincerely do mean that you are sorry. And for that reason I simply cannot doubt you."

He seemed sincere, but she slowly tore her gaze away and stared back down at their hands holding each other's.

"I could be faking it," she said softly, more out of stubbornness against his view than what she really felt.

"Are you?" James asked, sounding doubtful of her weak argument.

Evaline squinted at their hands. "...No," she mumbled.

"Then I'm right," he said.

"But I could be faking it," she countered.

"But you're not," he retorted gently.

"But I could," she said again.

"Well, on the day that you do, please let me know," he said with a hint of teasing in his voice.

"I wouldn't do that," she said as she finally looked up at him. "That'll give it away."

James was smiling ever so slightly as he met her eyes. Though it was a closed-mouth smile, she could see one of his dimples dip on one side of his cheek.

"Yeah," he said softly. "Yeah it would."

She kept her gaze on him, trying not to let the guilt pierce through her chest as she noted his bruises.

"Why are you the one comforting me?" she blurted out. "This isn't right."

"If you would like to comfort me back, I am all ears," James said with his smile still lingering

"I do," Evaline said a little too quickly. "I do want to comfort you. I just..." She looked off to the side. "I don't know what to say."

"That's okay," he said softly. "Neither do I."

That was a blatant lie since he seemed to always know what to say, but she figured now was not the time to bring that up.

"I can try," she offered.

"I don't know if there's really much to say," he said, still speaking quietly.

"There's -- there's lots to say," she said defiantly as she turned to meet his gaze again. "I just want to make sure I say the right thing."

"I think it is less important that you say it flawlessly and more important that you say it honestly," James responded.

Evaline took a deep breath. Fine. Then she'd just tell him all her unfiltered, honest thoughts.

"I don't know how you do it," she said quickly, talking fast. "I don't know how you're still patient, and gentle, and kind, even now when I'm an emotional mess and after I broke my promise to you that I wouldn't hurt you. You should be angry or upset, even if a bit understanding of why I had to do it, but I expected loss of trust. But you still trust me, and I want you to know that I'm not going to stop. I'm not going to stop protecting you, even if it makes me worse, or even if it means I lose your trust along the way. You are worth protecting."

She stopped to take a deep breath, keeping her eyes on his. His eyes were full of tears. He blinked, and they rushed down his face.

"You are worth saving, James," she said softly. "I'd do it again and again if I have to. And I won't stop."

James dropped his gaze to the ground, continuing to cry but not with any sobbing or weeping, only heavy breaths.

"I only wish I knew how to save you too," he whispered, barely audible.

A thought drifted to the front of her mind, floating like a ribbon in the wind, and no longer able to be controlled.

"You already have," she whispered back, barely conscious of the words she was saying.

James looked up at her slowly, with big, shining eyes. For once, it seemed like he couldn't think of the right words to say. He only stared at her as tears continued to stream down his cheeks.

Now it was her turn to comfort him. She looked down at their hands and gently rubbed his palms with her thumb as a small, nervous laugh came up.

"Thank you," she said softly. "For coming to Earth and finding me when I was lost."

James continued to look up at her, but his eyes were bleary and overflowing with tears. His breath got shaky, and he sniffed.

"I think I was lost too," he croaked.

"Are you still lost?" she asked as she peered back up at him again.

"No," he said in a whisper. "Not anymore."

For a long pause, they looked into each other's eyes, and Evaline had to force herself to keep it together, not letting James's tears and glistening eyes affect her own stability.

"I'm glad," she whispered back. "That you were found."

James smiled just a little, and he sniffed again.

"I guess we're both good at finding things, then," he whispered in return.

"I don't know about you," she said, still with the same tone as she held his eyes. "But I didn't have to look very far. It fell into place by itself."

James's smile grew, and he let out a short, breathy laugh.

"It seems you've gotten better at talking figuratively," he said with still-tearful eyes.

She was so tense, she couldn't help but let out a smile and a short laugh at the observation as she squeezed his hands.

"A lot has happened the past five years," she said through the lingering smile. "You have a lot of catching up to do."

James was quiet for a moment as he watched her.

"So do you," he said quietly.

Evaline continued to hold his gaze, still holding his hands in hers. She feel her heart quicken and beat loudly against her chest.

"We can start at the beginning," she offered quietly, afraid to elaborate right away.

"The beginning... after we last saw each other?" James asked. "Or... the beginning?"

"The... the beginning," she answered, not sure if that was even a proper answer, but she bit her tongue from saying anything more.

James opened his mouth to speak, but before words could come out, there was a sudden incessant chirping that came from Elliot. James blinked slowly and turned to see Sleepy poking her head out of the saddlebag, noisily announcing her hunger.

"Oh," James said quietly. "She's up."

They were still holding hands, but Evaline wasn't ready to give his hands up yet, although she knew she had to eventually.

After a brief hesitation, she pulled out one hand and then reached over to pull his loose strands of hair behind his ear again. He seemed to freeze for a moment before she saw his face flush beneath the bruises.

She remembered him doing this to her, once. Now she wanted to return the moment with their roles reversed.

"Thank you for breakfast," she said with a soft smile as she met his eyes again, gently squeezing his hand before pulling away. "I think Sleepy would like the same treatment."

James still seemed a little frozen for a moment, as his response lagged by a few seconds, and he wordlessly got to his feet with a nod and walked over to sleepy, scooping her out of the bag and feeding her.

Evaline cleared her throat, feeling a little nervous, but deciding to play it off for both their sakes.

"We're a few miles away from the rendezvous?" she asked casually.

James was holding Sleepy in one hand and a small handful of bird feed in the other. Sleepy was pecking down into his palm as he looked back at her.

"Ah, yes," he said a little distractedly. "It shouldn't take long to get there. Do you know what time they're expecting us?"

Evaline looked up at the sky, realizing that the sun was still rising. She knew they had hours to kill before they met up in the evening. At earliest, they may get there in the afternoon. But that was still many hours from now. She hummed.

"We have time," she said. "Why don't we snake our way towards the river and get cleaned up first?" she asked. "I want to clean out any open wounds you may have, too."

"Amazingly, most of them are just bruises," James said, watching Sleepy eat out of his hand. "But it would be nice to smell less like a sewer rat."

Evaline couldn't help but let out an airy laugh, feeling the tension leave her body as she stood up and shook her head.

"Right when I was getting to your smell, too," she said as she started to help clean out the camp they made.

"Here I was thinking your nose was all plugged up from being sick," James quipped.

"You've said it yourself," she said back. "I'm no longer sick."

James glanced back at her with a smirk.

"And I'm happy for it."