Young Writers Society

Evaline sat there with James for some time, being there to support him. Sometimes it didn't feel like it was enough, but she James's words echoed in her head saying that just being there was enough for him, and that she didn't need to try to fix everything. She chose to believe it.

Eventually James was the one who loosened their grip and broke the silence, apologizing that they didn't get far on her journal, in which Evaline quickly dismissed because they had plenty of time to go through it. He seemed to appreciate her words and actions, and they sat there for a little while longer before he volunteered to sleep first.

Evaline was glad to let him go first, and she didn't want to wake him. They were ahead of schedule and James had a long night. He deserved the rest.

Although, she knew that he didn't need her to know when to get up. James only slept in for an extra half hour before he noticed that she didn't wake him, and he insisted that she sleep, which she reluctantly did.

She knew that she didn't need to 'fix' this, but she wished there was something she could do, even if it was as little as giving him some of her sleeping time.

The next day whizzed by. They went through their daily routines, although she found the both of them to be less chatty than usual. While they silently trekked through the sandy dirt, Evaline wordlessly took his hand, and James wordlessly laced his fingers with hers. They didn't need to say much to convey their thoughts, and she didn't mind that.

By nighttime, Evaline was ready to go through her journal again, but she wanted to make sure James was at a decent headspace before doing so. There really was no rush to look through the pages.

She sat next to him in front of the fire during the cold breezy night, blanket wrapped around her body, including over her head.

"Would you like to continue going through my journal?" she asked. "We don't have to."

James looked over at her. He had his blanket pulled up around his neck and shoulders, up to this chin, and he looked over at her with a small smile.

"We can look at more of it," he said, observing her with a fondness in his eyes.

Evaline didn't know what she said or did to warrant that look, but she nodded and reluctantly got up on her feet, racing against the bitter cold to Elliot's saddlebag and fetch the journal. When she found it, she carefully held on to it and closed the saddlebag. Elliot's ears flicked, and she leaned in for a quick hug around his neck before briskly walking back to where James sat, setting the journal in front of them. Before she could open it or say anything, she adjusted the blanket to be draping her shoulders and head again, taking in a deep breath.

"Okay," she said under her breath. "Let me find where we left off."

James nodded, watching as she flipped the pages.

Evaline took a minute to find the right page. When she landed on the list they were at before, she gingerly turned the page to reveal the first real journal entry, reading it slowly.






Evaline knew that James was a fast reader, and he likely finished before she did. But she found herself reading it slowly, taking in every word, like she was asking herself if any of this was real.

She was so... [i]harsh.

When she finally read it the second time, she slowly looked up at him, dreading his reaction. He looked serious, but there was a look of understanding in his eyes. He offered her a slight smile.

"I want to hear your thoughts first," she said with a frown, drawing her brows together as she looked back down at the journal.

"I think it's fair that you were confused," James said quietly. "If I were in your shoes, I probably would have been confused too. I don't blame you."

"Maybe," Evaline said, squinting into the page. "I certainly took out my frustration through this entry. But I didn't take it out on you, too... did I?"

"I... can't remember," James said. "If you meant to, I probably didn't notice."

Evaline sighed. She had a feeling he consistently put up with her various frustrations back then. She didn't know how he did it.

"I'm guessing... this was written after you told me your boundaries," she said. "Based on context."

"That's what it sounds like," James agreed.

"Do you think this entry had anything to do with your identity?" she asked.

James pursed his lips, looking unsure.

"It might have," he said. "I'm not sure exactly when you wrote this. I was upfront about me being wanted, but I guess, I did have a tendency to uh--"

He lifted his hand out of his blanket for a second, waving it over his face. When his hand went up, he smiled, and when his hand went down, he went serious with a clean, sudden transition.

"I'm a little more self-aware now," James said.

Evaline hummed in thought, amused by his demonstration, but still concerned over her outdated thoughts. She stared back into the page, specifically where she underlined liar twice.

"That could be it," she said. "It would make you harder to read. I wish I knew my thought process at the time to why I quickly accused you of being a liar."

"I can't tell you what was going on in your head, but I know that I probably put on a mask whenever I felt uncomfortable," he said.

"Did you feel uncomfortable during the..." She looked down into the page with a finger tracing the words she wanted to quote. "...'the dancing, the kiss, and the hugs'?"

"I know there was probably always a little lingering discomfort any time I was making physical contact, but it wasn't always the prevailing emotion," he said. "I did enjoy the dance, and, at least, for the hugs I initiated - that I can recall - I wanted to give them despite it. As for the kiss, well, that caught me off guard more than anything. I... well, you saw in my head already how that went."

"...Yeah," Evaline said awkwardly with a weak laugh, recalling the memory he showed her.

She wasn't really sure why he decided to show it to her. Maybe to capture how giddy and out-of-character she seemed.

"Why did you decide to show me that memory, anyways?" she asked, deciding to voice her thoughts. "If it caught you off-guard and it was before I knew of your boundaries."

"I just wanted you to see yourself when you were excited," James said with genuine innocence.

"Oh," she said softly, starting to feel the embarrassment rise to her head. It seemed silly that this all stemmed from riding Elliot, and she took the excitement out on James.

She cleared her throat and then pointed to the next section.

"Seems that I secretly wanted to stay in Nye," she said. "But I didn't want to tell you because I didn't know if you wanted me to stay."

"I can remember wanting you to stay but being afraid to tell you, because I didn't want to influence your choice," James said quietly. "It... sounds kind of silly, now. Not that silly is the word for it."

Evaline was quiet for a moment, quickly rereading the section over and over.

"I can understand that," she said with the same tone. "Especially now that you're here with me."

"It helps, though," James said. "To know that you want me here. I'm sorry I never told you."

Evaline thought back to the note and the first time that James showed it to her in Terra. Even before that, she had asked him if he wanted to stay on Earth due to his circumstances in Nye. It went without saying now that he would stay, and she didn't need to hear him directly say it, but she did wonder...

"Do you remember the night you showed me the note for the first time in Terra?" she asked, tearing her gaze away from the journal to back up at him. "It was the night of the Day of Peace."

"I... do. Yes," he said.

Evaline took a deep breath. "I didn't really know what you wanted back then," she said. "I assumed returning to Nye would be an option you'd want to consider... I'm sorry if my insensitivity hurt."

"I didn't know how to tell you," James said softly. "That I wanted to stay... with you. But I was convinced you didn't want me here. I forgive you. I know neither of us were saying everything we meant."

Evaline was quiet for a moment, taking the forgiveness for what it was. This wasn't some outdated action that happened five years ago. They were talking about something that happened three months ago. It was hard to believe how much their dynamic had changed since then.

"At least I know now," she said with a small smile. "Neither of us have to harbor these thoughts or secrets anymore. And best of all, we can completely ignore the note."

"I am in support of ignoring the note," James said with a small smile.

"What note?" she teased.

James's smile grew a little more as he met her eyes with a mischievous look.

"I don't even remember, now," he said.

Evaline smirked before returning her gaze back to the journal. "Should I move on?" she asked.

"Sure," he said.

Evaline nodded, slowly turning the page.






Evaline winced again while reading, suddenly feeling uncomfortable that she was reading this with James. She hardly ever journaled, and when she did, it seemed that she simply wrote down all of her unfiltered thoughts. Like... all of it.

She was tempted to quietly move on without saying anything, but she resisted the temptation. It didn't help that James seemed to want to take this at her pace, answering questions or offering comments only if she asked.

"I didn't say any of this to you back then," she said flatly. "Did I?"

"No," James said quietly. "Did you not want me to see?"

"No, it's -- it's fine," Evaline said quickly. "It's just a little... weird, is all."

"Do you want to talk about it?" James asked.

"We can," she said after a hesitation. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It might be helpful," he said.

Evaline took a deep breath. "Okay," she said as she peered back down into the pages. "Where do I..." She let out a weak, breathy laugh. "Where do I even begin?"

"The first entry?" James suggested. "I didn't know Raya asked you that. That was very forward of her."

Evaline thought back to her notes of Raya and the few memories she could remember clearly of her, although she didn't know that she had asked her that too.

"She seemed very adamant about wanting me to stay," she said. "And she was also fairly defensive, and she didn't trust you. Maybe she brought it up to talk me out of it. I don't know."

"I think she was just looking for ways to convince you to stay," James said.

"Maybe," Evaline said. "She seemed like someone who wouldn't take my no to heart without knowing the reason."

"From what I remember, that sounds right," James agreed.

There was a small pause, and James seemed to sense she wasn't going to say anything more.

"Do you... want to talk about Alan?" he asked.

Evaline stared down into the page, feeling herself get wrapped up in her own thoughts. She had to force herself out of it.

"We can," she said, forcing the words out. "What do you know about him so far?"

"I know he was Alistair's twin brother," he said. "Alistair told me a little bit about him, actually.

"Wha--" she found herself sputtering out, not believing that he had a whole conversation about this with Alistair before her. "What did he tell you?"

"Well, he... kind of brought it up," James said. "He asked me a bunch of questions about myself, and then said I sounded a lot like his brother."

Evaline peered back into the page where she made the comparison herself, and then remembered Alistair saying that she "had a type." She had to bite back an embarrassed groan.

"You do have some similarities," she admitted. "But Alan wasn't as... I guess, shy. He was charismatic and always knew what to say. He was always forward with me... with everything, really. I was fairly quiet back then, and I guess I was drawn to the fact that he was drawn to me... if that makes sense."

"That makes sense," James said. "I feel like, in certain settings I pretend to be charismatic, but when I'm just being myself, I don't feel that as much."

Evaline nodded. "Another thing I really like about you is that you always say what you mean. You may pretend to be charismatic if you need to be, but around me when you're being yourself, you don't say anything thoughtless. I can count on your word."

"I don't like saying things I don't mean," James said. "At least... not with people I trust and really care about. It would be different if you were a complete stranger, on Nye, and I was just passing through town. You know. Context."

"I know," she said a little quieter. "I understand that. I just... appreciate it. I can trust everything you say and not have to ask you to prove it. It means a lot to me."

"It does to me too," James said. "I know you're much the same."

"...I try to be," Evaline said as she peered down at the paper, brushing the edge of the page with her thumb. "I don't think it's fair or right to lead someone astray with false hope and broken promises. Words carry weight and meaning, and they can't - and shouldn't - be easily brushed away like they're worth nothing."

"I agree," James said. "I know the things we say can really stick with people, whether we're aware of it or not. And I try to be as precise with my words as I can so that it's exactly what I mean to say. That said, I'm not always perfect at it... but I do try. I think we both do. Which I also really appreciate."

"I know I say all this even though I can use some more lessons myself," Evaline said softly. "But I haven't always been this way. I guess... somewhere along the way, I decided to accept that words are hollow noises with no merit, and shouldn't be a deciding factor on trust. But I've recognized that that's flawed logic, and I'm trying to be better. Be less insensitive."

"I'm grateful for that," he said softly in return, and from the corner of her eye she could see his gaze fall back down to the journal, on the page about Alan.

"In one of my dreams..." James said carefully. "There was a brief moment where Alan mentioned a break-up. I don't know if you want to talk about it, or if you remember it, but I assume that's what you were referring to... here?"

She saw his finger reach out to the bottom of the page, hovering over the words: I can remember him leaving me, and breaking our promise.

Evaline stared at the page, repeating those words over and over in her head. It was odd that James had a personal memory of Alan that she didn't possess.

"I don't remember it myself," she said slowly. "But when it was all over, I asked Mel and Alistair about what happened with... everything, really. They showed me their memories through their eyes, and from that I can make my own deductions. I've seen myself from their perspectives, but I'll never know exactly what was running through my head in those weeks. It's strange... how you could know more than me, if you knew which undone memories to tap into."

She peered up at him, pausing to gauge his reaction, knowing she had deflected the questions because it was a forced habit at this point, but also not knowing if he had any comments before she could move on to truly answer. He looked like he was waiting for her. Watching, and listening attentively.

Evaline took a deep breath in through her nose and exhaled through her mouth, slowly looking back down at the page so she could see the sentence she wrote again.

"So from their context, yes," she said. "We were just kids. It hardly matters. I don't even know if we were even in a relationship since Mel and Alistair didn't know either, but... maybe we were. But I know that Alan led me to believe that we could have a future together after we graduate, but he changed his mind. I don't really know why. I guess I clung onto that and took too many years to move on, even after his death."

"When did you feel like you were starting to move on?" he asked softly.

Evaline mirthlessly laughed through her nose. Not because he said anything funny, but because... well...

"I don't think I can ever completely move on," she said flatly. "I'm always like this. I get too attached. And how can I ever find closure if he left me, and I can't ever see him again? And I don't even have the memories of him. So maybe I don't let it cripple me, but I hate that I can't completely get over it, even if it's been nine years."

"I don't really know if there's such a thing as 'getting over it,'" James said. "Not when it comes to the loss of someone you've loved and cared about. When I think of moving on, I think of when, maybe... it hurts less to talk about them. At least, that's how it's been for me. When I was finally able to actually remember the good things too, and not just what hurt. Sometimes it mixes together, of course, because feelings can't always be put into nice little separate categories."

"I guess it is easier to talk about him now," she said. "Easier. It doesn't mean it's easy. But it's difficult to 'remember the good things' because that was taken away from me too. He's like a ghost in my mind that won't go away. What do I even do with that?"

"I don't know if I have a solution for you," James said quietly. "But I do hope that it will help to keep talking about it little by little, over time."

"I guess so," Evaline said just as quietly, her thumb brushing the words 'leaving me' on the page. She paused for a moment before speaking again. "But... I do remember some things," she said. "From when we were younger. Just as friends, I assume."

"Do you want to share any of those things?" James asked gently.

Evaline paused, deep in thought, wading through old memories and shaking them off. It was fine. She didn't mind sharing with James. She trusted him.

"I was fourteen," she began. "We were in a library. It wasn't uncommon for us to sneak away and meet there. It was silly... since we'd just read and take more books than we were allowed to. But I remember one time, I went to the library after I had a fight with my parents earlier in the day. They told me for the first time that I was expected to marry Oliver, and that I was going to be Sector 1's future leader. I didn't want that life, but I had to do it. So I was on the floor of the library, bawling, telling Alan this. And he knew that I hated my name, because it's a combination of my parent's names."

She paused for another moment, sensing James's patience, and appreciating it. A small, wistful smile tugged her lips as she sadly looked up at him.

"Alan was the one who suggested I go by the name Eve because of that," she said. "He ended up only calling me Eve up until the end. The name didn't really stick with anyone else, but... well, I guess it stuck with you, too."

"Is that alright?" James asked gently.

Evaline smiled weakly in appreciation. "Yes," she said. "It's alright. I don't mind."

"Then I'll stick with it," James said with a little smile. "Eve."

Evaline's smile widened just a little, but she couldn't help but feel a little sad. She almost felt bad that she liked it when James called her that, because it reminded her of Alan. It was stupid, and dumb, and she hated that she couldn't just be a blank canvas for him.

"Unless..." she began impulsively. "You'd want to be more original. I don't know, I don't want it to be weird for you."

"I don't think it's weird unless you don't like it," James said. "I'd rather just call you a name that you like. And if that's Eve, then I'll call you Eve."

"...Okay," she said softly, not knowing what else to say. She never knew what she wanted.

"So," James continued, as if he knew she was at a loss for words. "What else was Alan like, from what you can remember?"

"Well..." Evaline began as her eyes drifted up to the paragraph she wrote comparing Alan with James. "This part is true," she said as she ignored the comparison and only focused on the words. "He was kind and patient. I was quiet, but also an anxious mess sometimes, and he had the patience to deal with that, while also knowing what to say to make me feel better. I think... no, he was naive as well. He had big dreams and viewed life through rose-tinted glasses. Everything was idealized in his mind, but it was infectious and hard to disagree around him."

James hummed. "I can see how it would be hard to disagree, if he was as charismatic as you say," James commented.

"Yeah," she said. "I've always been so pessimistic, but I guess his optimism gave me hope."

"And that's why... you don't really believe in hope much, anymore?" James asked softly.

Evaline squinted into the page, thinking. "I... maybe," she said. "That could be it, or maybe it was a series of many things. But I guess I'm still a pessimist if I say that I don't believe in hope, even to this day."

"I'm sure it wasn't just one thing. It probably was a series of things," James said. "But... I'm sorry that Alan offered you a hope that failed you."

"That's okay," she said as she offered another small, forced smile. "It happened so long ago. I'm just glad that you don't share that aspect of him."

"Well, I am a completely different person," James said, leaning in just a little and looking at her with a tiny smile. "So, I'd sure hope I'm different."

"You are," Evaline said quickly, knowing that the written comparison was right in front of them, and they were ignoring it. But she knew that James already knew about it from this, and also from Alistair.

The words came out all at once the moment she felt the need to justify herself.

"You're a completely different person," Evaline added without thought. "You're not him, never mind the similarities, or that you call me Eve too. Plus you're - you know - alive. And like I said, you mean what you say. And that means a lot. I don't know why Alistair says that 'I have a type' when you're clearly different. I just like you. You, James. No one else. Just you as you."

She found herself getting more and more embarrassed with each passing sentence, and she was staring at him with her lips tightly drawn together into a pout that she quickly corrected.

It almost sounded like she was trying to convince herself and not James. That realization made her shrink more into herself.

"I didn't think otherwise," James said calmly. "I was just teasing a little, is all."

"I... I--" she began, then faltered. She looked away, squinting into the fire with furrowed brows. "I knew that," she muttered.

"I hope you know that you talking about him doesn't make me question our relationship," James said. "I just know that he was a significant part of your life, and if he was important to you, I want to know about him. That's all."

"I want to know about the important people in your life too," Evaline quickly said back, suddenly finding herself desperate to turn the topic away from herself. "I also wouldn't let it question our relationship. I just want to more about you too. It goes both ways."

"I'm glad we're on the same page," James said, tilting his head a little, like he was somehow onto her. Like he knew she was deflecting.

But Evaline didn't care.

"So if you want to talk about it," she found herself grumbling as she wrapped the blanket tighter across her body and head. "...I'd listen."

James flicked his eyes between Evaline and the fire.

"Are you... trying to flip the conversation back to me instead?" he asked.

"...No," she mumbled, even though she didn't think that was true. "Maybe. I don't know."

"I mean, I'm not going to force you to keep talking about Alan, but..." James lifted an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "It wasn't that subtle. You know you can just tell me if you don't really want to keep talking about it at the moment. I know you said it's hard."

"No, it's fine," Evaline said quickly again. "I don't want to hide things from you. I don't mind talking about it with you, even if it's hard. It's just... I don't know if it's weird for you. I don't want this to be weird for you. Especially when I said I can't ever fully move on. I just don't want you to carry all this extra baggage for me and pretend that everything is okay."

"I'm not carrying it for you," James said. "I'm carrying it with you. There's a difference. And I already said, it's not weird for me. I think it would be much weirder if we never talked about it at all. I prefer this."

"But -- carrying it with me, then," Evaline continued stubbornly. "I don't want you to carry it at all. I don't want to ask you to do that, especially because I don't want to put up with my own problems. I wish I could just... start over and start anew with you."

"You wish you could erase your past?" James asked, tilting his head again.

"I wish I could undo my past and erase it," Evaline blurted out. "That's fitting, isn't it? It's too bad I can only go back up to ten minutes."

"But if you were to undo it now, who knows if you would've met me," James said. "We both have regrets, Evaline, but neither of us can erase the pains of our past. We need to learn how to live with them, somehow. Even if it takes us a while to figure out how to do it. I know it's not always going to look pretty, but it's the only way forward. It's the only way forward where both of us learn and heal."

Evaline was quiet for a moment, listening to his words and thinking back on their conversation yesterday. It was almost ironic how James could use his own advice.

"Do you know how to do that?" she asked, looking over at him again with steely eyes to show that she was serious. "Do you know how to live with the pains of your past and know how to go forward with healing?"

"Not wholly," James said. "That's why I said it might take a while for both of us to figure it out. I'm not excluding myself from the picture."

Evaline let a long pause stretch out. She needed to think.

"I'd be willing to learn," she said quietly as she watched the embers of the fire fly into the night air. "I'd be willing to learn if we learn alongside each other."

"And I'd rather do it with you, too," James said.

"I can follow your lead," she said with a sudden sharpness. "Since I don't know how to do it."

"My... lead," James said slowly, looking over to her with his eyebrows slightly raised.

"Yeah," Evaline said flatly, too tired to explain, so she said the first bogus explanation that came to mind. "It's like Elliot's lead. But on you."

"I'm... a leash?" James said, narrowing his eyes like he was trying to understand the metaphor.

"Mmhmm," Evaline continued, not even breaking into a smile, even though she felt the beginnings of one twitch her lips. "It's how I control you. Because I'm so manipulative."

"I thought we were talking about me helping you figure out how to heal?" James asked with what sounded like genuine confusion, now.

Evaline finally turned her head and met his eyes, and the innocence of it broke through her filter, causing her to smile. It was strangely endearing to have to explain idioms, phrases, and other common knowledge things to James sometimes.

"I was messing with you," she said with an amused puff of air through her nose. "It's just an expression. I'm saying that if you go forward and start the journey of healing, I'll follow you. I'd follow your lead."

James's face melted into an innocent smile of relief and understanding, and he let ouf a small "hah."

"Oh," he said, looking a little embarrassed. "That -- yeah. I should've gotten that from the context. Seems obvious now."

Evaline raised a brow at him, tempted to ask what he thought she meant, but part of her would rather not find out. She cleared her throat and then reached over to the journal, closing it.

"So... I'm done with that today," she said. "We can continue later. We have so much time to talk about these things, you know. All the things we don't talk about. So much time."

"That's okay," James said. "We got through a whole two pages. I think that's progress."

Evaline couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or serious. She narrowed her eyes at him for a few moments.

"What happened to your journal?" she asked. "The one from years ago."

James blinked, staring at her blankly.

"My... oh," he said, his eyes flicking to the side. "I -- I lost it. Well, I've had a few, actually. It's almost comical at this point how many of them I've lost to different situations."

"Oh," Evaline said, suddenly feeling bad. She paused. "You... lost it? Or was it taken?"

"It's a little bit of a gray area, sometimes," James said. "Losing a bag while running in the woods, or said journal falling into the water in a hasty getaway, along with journals being discovered by nosy bounty hunters... I had to start writing in code at one point, just because I was tired of not having privacy, and then I just..."

He laughed weakly, and she could tell the laugh was forced.

"I don't know, I just gave up on the whole... journal. Thing. For a while," James said with a strained smile.

Evaline's heart sank as she recalled an old memory, way back in Nye when they were talking about how they released frustration. Or, at least, how James released frustration, because she didn't want to tell him anything.

"Didn't you journal to keep yourself sane?" she asked after a hesitation.

James's strained smile only grew more strained.

"I -- well, sort of, yes, I mean-- it was a coping mechanism. But I just didn't really feel -- well, it kind of was ruined for me after--"

He snapped his mouth shut, and his smile waned as he furrowed his brows and looked off to the side.

"It was used as leverage against me, at one point. I didn't want to relive that," he said quietly.

"That's terrible," Evaline said sadly, empathizing with him. "I hate that people treated you so badly in Nye. You don't deserve any of it."

"I think I just have bad luck," he said with another weak laugh. "Not that I believe in luck. I don't know. It's... well, it's... it happened."

"If that happened here..." She huffed through her nose. "Well, it wouldn't, because I wouldn't let it. You have the right to your own privacy."

"I know that," James said. "It's just -- it became easier to protect that privacy by keeping it all in my head, you know. Where no one else can find it."

"Well, you don't have to keep it in your head anymore," Evaline said. "You can talk to me if you're not comfortable writing it down, but you already know that. I just want you to feel safe with your own thoughts again."

James nodded, offering her another small smile, but this one looked a little more genuine.

"I know," he said. "I think I just feel a little out of practice. Putting things into words again. At least, things that involve... me."

"Someone special to me once told me that I don't need to be perfect," she said with a small smile of her own. "And I don't expect you to be perfect, either."

James's smile grew a little bit and he laughed lightly through his nose as he looked to the ground.

"We're always doing that," he said, talking through his smile. "Throwing our own words back at each other."

"I like it," she said as she let his smile infect her own. "We could use our own advice sometimes."

"And it keeps me from being too much of a hypocrite," James said with another little huff of air as a laugh.

"Guess so."

They continued to go through the motions of routine. Evaline suggested James sleep first because she needed something to distract herself, so while he slept, she took out their journal and drew whatever came to mind. She disliked that she had to fight the temptation to draw Alan. It had been so long since she had done that, and it felt like it had equally been so long since she had a steady conversation about him with anyone.

It didn't matter. She'd rather live in the present with James, anyways. And maybe that was part of the process to heal.

Morning came and went, and they went through the day in a daze. The sky was cloudy, but fortunately didn't rain, although she didn't think it'd be a bad thing since it meant a fresh water source. Evaline was getting tired from drinking filtered water with questionable odors.

They were in the desert now, but she knew that they wouldn't be in it for too long. They only had to cross the section that led into the mountains, and then they were in the clear. It did make Evaline a bit nervous, though. Taking this path meant they would be closer to the sectors than she felt comfortable being, but the risk was calculated. The alternative would be to spend an extra month circling around to meet on the other side, and that felt much more dangerous.

Evaline kicked up some of the sand, remembering their time in the desert. The Outlands. She looked over at James while they silently walked, but she didn't say anything. She didn't want to worry him with her own worries they couldn't control.

She hoped they would be okay.

Night came, and it was especially cold. It was hard to tell without a thermometer, but she guessed that it may be cold enough to frost until the sun came back up.

She huddled together with James, fireless because it was recommended to not keep a fire overnight in the desert since it attracted nocturnal predators.

Evaline was just glad that they were traveling south. It was cold, but it could be worse.

It was difficult to talk in the bitter cold, so they conserved their energy and decided to sleep, helping keeping each other warm with the extra clothes, blankets, and their own body heat. Evaline fell asleep first, and she was awake for the second half of the night, eagerly awaiting the sun to come back up so that the weather would be sunny and warm despite the month. It was surprisingly easy to stay up after restless night of cold.

They were both lying on their sides, with James behind her with his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her in closely. Evaline held Sleepy around her arms. For a chicken, she was surprisingly warm. It helped that she seemed to be fully grown too, although she couldn't quite perch on James's shoulder anymore.

Evaline was lost in her own thoughts about Sleepy and the possibility of her laying eggs when suddenly she felt James twitch awake in his sleep.

He was outside, sitting on a swing and peering up at the golden sky. The sun was setting, but it didn't feel any cooler.

"I just need to control my emotions, I think," the girl next to him said. "And I don't think you could help with that."

James immediately recognized the voice to be Evaline. She sounded younger and more gentle, but it was unmistakeable. This was only confirmed when the eyes of the person he was looking through turned over towards her. She was also sitting on a swing, wearing the same school uniform he had recognized in the previous dreams, but her hair was shorter, and it was neatly clipped up by two white barettes. Her familiar pale blue eyes were looking off into the distance, but there was a hidden softness behind them he hadn't seen in her before.

"But maybe I could help," a boy whose eyes he was looking through said, a smile reaching his eyes. "Your baby power helps you feel stuff, and I've got a lot of funny things I could show you."

Evaline laughed a little. "I don't have a baby power," she said stubbornly.

"That's right," the boy agreed. "You're Evaline. Sector 1's next powerful leader. And the crowd goes [i]wild!"

He mimicked a crowd cheering, waving his arms in the air before turning back to Evaline.

"And they say," he began again, and then fell into an exaggerated announcing voice, "Evaline, strong and powerful time traveler, welcome to the new era!"

Evaline looked at him for a moment with a kind smile but then looked down at the ground. "That's what everyone says," she said softly. "But it doesn't really feel that way. I'm pretty good at doing what Arima can do, though. Kind of."

"Ev," the boy said gently, then leaped to his feet to give her a hug from behind. His hands wrapped around her neck as his head propped up on top of her head. "Why are you so smart?" he grumbled in her ear.

"...Huh?" Evaline spat out, trying to look at him over her shoulder and watching him out of the corner of her eye.

"WHY ARE YOU SO SMART?" he yelled in her ear with a grin.

"Ugh! Elias!" she said with obvious anoyance as she pushed him away and rubbed her ear, shooting him a glare. "You always do that!"

"And you fall for it every time," the boy, Elias, said smugly as he pulled away and crossed his arms. "Even though you're so smart."

Evaline pouted, still rubbing her ear as she narrowed her eyes at him over her shoulder. "I don't see how that thought was connected to what I said before," she mumbled.

"You overthink things," Elias said back, still with a grin.

Evaline narrowed her eyes at him even more. "You make no sense sometimes," she said after a long pause, half-rolling her eyes as she sighed and then turned back around.

Elias shrugged. "Sometimes life makes no sense."

"That's probably the wisest thing you've ever said, and that wasn't even that wise."

Elias smirked, and then without prompt, he pushed his arms forward to grab Evaline's swing back and then push her forward with great force. She grunted from shock as she tried to peer over her shoulder and express a, 'What are you doing?!' look at him, but didn't have time since she was already in the air.

"Why -- what -- Elias!" she scolded again, but then laughed as she came down.

"Life is like a swing!" he said between grunts as he pushed her again with more force, sending her higher. "It goes up, and it goes down!"

"Really?" Evaline said with another laugh as she went up in the air again, no longer fighting it. "You're really trying to prove how wise you are to me right now?"

Elias waited until she came down so he could push her again before answering. "Maybe," he said with another grin. "Or maybe I just like to push you on the swing."

Evaline laughed again, high pitched and airy. "You are so dumb," she said as she flew up high this time, her hair catching the wind.[/i]

James's eyes shot open, but not from fear or anxiety, but because of how vivid the memory had played out in his mind, and how immersed in it he felt, looking through Elias's eyes.

He didn't even know Elias, and yet he was seeing his memories. Or -- no, it had to be Evaline's memory, through Elias's eyes. That meant she would've undone it. Right? What was there to undo?

He stared into the darkness, huddled up against Evaline's back, with his arm around her waist, and Sleepy in her arms. He didn't want to move, because he could feel the pinch of the freezing night air against his face, and he was afraid if he shifted that he might kick up the blanket and let the cold air into their small cocoon of warmth.

But he couldn't shake off the memory.

"Are you awake?" he heard her ask, barely audible.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I... I had another dream. A memory of yours."

Evaline was still for a moment, but she first responded by moving her hand on top of his own around her waist.

"What about?" she whispered back.

"You were a kid," James said, still speaking under his breath. "You were on a swing, talking to Elias."

He could feel her hand grow heavier against his own, but otherwise she didn't respond. James let a few long seconds pass before he spoke again.

"It sounded like you two were just talking," James said. "About you being a leader, and then you two started joking around. It wasn't anything bad. Just... a conversation. You seemed young. Maybe 13 or so."

Evaline let another silence pass, but she started to move. Slowly, she shifted so that she rolled over to her other side so she could be facing him. Although James couldn't see it due to the blankets that covered their bodies, he could feel her bringing Sleepy between them.

"It's hard to talk when I'm facing the opposite way," she explained quietly, her face inches from his.

She spent a few moments getting more comfortable, her legs tangling with his as Sleepy was nested on a small gap between their chests.

James couldn't see Evaline's face very well with nothing but the dim moonlight, but he could hear her better now that she was facing him, and her being so close. He reached his arm over Sleepy to hold onto Evaline's side, trying to keep the warmth between them.

"Do you want to hear more details?" James asked softly. "I... assume this memory was undone?"

"I was just beginning to grasp my powers as that age," she whispered after another brief pause. "It was probably undone by accident. I wasn't good at control."

"Ah," James said breathily. "At the... beginning of the dream. You mentioned needing to be able to control your emotions. It sounded like maybe you were talking about controlling your powers."

"That sounds right," she said. "I was trying really hard to learn how to do it my own way."

"It sounds like it didn't work out," James said softly.

He wished that her powers didn't have to be such a burden. He wanted her to be able to feel without fear. He knew the both of them wished there was another way - and she believed the only way was to get rid of her powers entirely. It seemed cruel that she had to choose one of the other: her powers, or being able to feel. The only other alternative was having powers out of her control.

"No," she said just as quietly. "It didn't. But if it happened on accident, I usually just let it play out on its own, pretending to not know what happened. Sometimes."

"Elias... he seemed very silly. And childlike," James said. "I imagine he was none the wiser."

James couldn't hear or see it, but he felt a stream of warm air blow on his face, possibly from her huffing it through her nose in mild amusement.

"I don't really know what memory you could have seen," she said. "But yes. He never picked up on it."

"It sounded like you were friends," James said softly. "Back then."

There was another long hesitation.

"Yes," she finally said, just as quietly. "We were."

"I'm sorry... this is probably hard to talk about," James whispered. "I just... you know. Want you to know what I saw."

"I appreciate it," she said. "A lot. Thank you."

James nodded, and then realized she might not be able to see it. He didn't know how good her eyesight was in the dark. He only knew his was very poor.

"Of course," he said, a little delayed.

Evaline didn't verbally respond, instead, curling forward and resting her head below his chin as she got closer to him. James wrapped his arms around her back as much as he could with a chicken between them.

It did feel a little silly, when he thought about it. But Sleepy was still his pet, and he didn't regret bringing the chicken along.

"I really don't want to see him again," Evaline said after a long stretch of silence, her whispering voice muffled by the blanket.

James found his attention turning quickly back to her.

"When was the last time you saw him?" he asked faintly.

"I've seen him multiple times without him knowing," she said as he felt her curl inwards even more. "During the war."

"I assume you were on opposite sides of the war?" James asked.

"Yes," she said. "We were."

"Is it okay to ask what his power is?" James asked. "Or... was?"

He assumed Elias had already gone through the procedure Elise was talking about, or would've by the time they got there.

"It's like Elise's, but drawn from other people instead of himself," she said quietly. "And... he has another. Called the berserk mutation. It just means his body would do anything to survive if pushed to certain limits."

"So instead of healing others... he heals himself," James said quietly.

And instead of giving, he took.

"Yes," Evaline said. "Like a parasite. And with the berserk mutation, it makes him dangerous. That's why he's in the military. Why we're on opposing sides. Or... were."

"And now... he's escaped the military?" James asked.

"I guess," she said softly. "I don't know the details. I dont even want to see him."

"When was the last time he would remember seeing you?" James asked.

Evaline took a while to respond, and he could feel her tense up as she took a deep breath.

"The day Alan died," she finally said.

Or rather, the day Elias killed Alan. At least, as far as James was able to deduce. No one ever actually said it out loud.

"So, close to nine or ten years," James said quietly.

"Mel and Alistair both remember the last words I told him," she said, barely audible. "'You're a monster, and always will be.'"

"Do you still believe that?" James asked in a whisper, matching her volume.

"Yes," she said without much of a hesitation this time. "I do."

"I can see why you wouldn't want to see him, then," James said, though his heart sank, and he didn't quite know why. "If you still feel the same way."

Evaline didn't respond again right away, but she held on to Sleepy a little tighter before looseninf her grip when she realized that she was holding on too tight.

"Thank you for understanding," she said, but it didn't sound sincere.

"If we're going to the final destination, though," James said. "The likelihood of you two at least seeing each other... it may be unavoidable."

"I was thinking we don't go," she said. "We don't have to, especially if we're not coming back. But... if I want to remove my power, I have to go. I don't know what to do."

"Do you really want to avoid Elias to the point of giving up your only known chance at being able to feel without the consequences of your power?" James asked.

"So you also think I should remove my power," Evaline said, avoiding the question.

"I think it's an option," James said. "I'm not saying you should or shouldn't. But you're not answering my question."

She slowly sighed. "It's not just that. I still don't know if I want to remove it. But I admit seeing Elias plays an influence."

"I know that the possibility of seeing him again is painful for reasons I don't fully understand," James said softly. "But I don't think you should let him be the deciding factor. Besides, you haven't even seen how the procedure works in person. You might have more clarity if--"

"He tried to kill me too, James," she interrupted. "Or at least... tried. I got away. But I can't just get over that."

"I'm sorry," James said quicky, his voice still quiet. He tilted his head down and to the side a little, so that his cheek was on the top of her head.

"Do you remember..." she whispered slowly. "Do you remember me saying I thought I only had a few months to live? In Nye? And that was a reason why I didn't want to come back here?"

"I do," James said solemnly.

He felt he already knew how it connected. Elias was the reason she only had a few months to live. He must have been coming for her, to kill her for good.

"It was because of him," Evaline continued, reaffirming his suspicions. "He was after me, and I thought I was going to die."

And with Elias's powers, he could understand how that would be terrifying. Not just to die violently, but to be murdered at the hands of someone who was once an old friend.

He didn't like that he could understand that feeling all too well. But he knew that in his case, he felt different towards Carter than Evaline did towards Elias.

James wasn't exactly longing to see Carter again... but he did long for reconciliation, even though he knew it wasn't just improbable, but impossible.

For a moment, he almost wished for a situation like this one - that Evaline was in - to fall into his hands. To be able to meet up with Carter, knowing he'd been reformed, and changed for the better.

If he'd had a chance like this, he would jump at the opportunity. But he knew this was different.

Elias was not Carter, and Elias and Evaline had a different history, and Evaline had a different challenge that she had to face.

She had to forgive Elias. But it sounded like she never had, and never would.

At least, not now.

"It's like they knew," she continued weakly. "It's like the military somehow knew that I was still attached to him, even though I hated him. He was my weakness. I couldn't change anything. I couldn't prevent him from coming closer. I thought I had to choose between facing him or running away, and I couldn't do either. Not at the time."

James felt his heart ache for the pain that Evaline had gone through, knowing that feeling of betrayal likely stemmed further back than when Elias was sent to kill her, but to when he'd killed Alan.

But something Evaline said stood out to him, and he had to suppress the sudden confusion at her last words.

She hadn't been able to stop him. Did that mean with Elias, she couldn't go back in time?

"Did something change?" James asked softly.

"Something did happen, yes," Evaline said, but didn't elaborate.

"Do you--"

"You happened," she finished. "Maybe no time passed when I came back from Nye, but I woke up as a different person."

James hummed softly, bringing his hand up Evaline's back under the blanket until it was behind her head, and he held her head under his.

"And that affected your powers too?" he asked.

He felt her dig her head closer to his chest and bend her legs up towards him until she was close to a fetal position, with Sleepy still squeezed in the middle.

"Yes. But even then, I thought staying to protect the others would be a death wish," she said after a long pause. "Instead I ran away. I always run away."

It seemed that they both had that in common.

"Did you run away because of your time with me?" he asked.

"I think you did heavily influence me," she rasped. "I was going to stay and face him, even if it was futile. I didn't have it in me to escape. But I didn't think that anymore after Nye."

"I'm glad that you ran," James whispered. "So you could survive. I'm glad that you're here."

Evaline didn't make any noise, but James felt at least one tear soak through his shirt, and she slid her arm across to grip on his shirt.

"I'm glad you're here too," she whispered back with a strained voice.

James decided not to ruin this moment with questions, and he held her a little tighter, cradling her head in his chest.

"You can cry," he whispered.

Evaline didn't say anything more, but she did sniff a few times under his grasp. A minute or two passed, and she seemed to relax the tension in her body, just a little.

"You're warm," she said quietly with a faint laugh in her voice as she broke the silence.

"It's all the bread and cheese," James said.

"I'm sure it is," Evaline said as she leaned away to tilt her head up at him. She slid her hand up from his chest to cup his face, and although it was hard to see in the dark, James thought he could see her smile.

"Thank you," she breathed out, and it sounded like she meant it.

"You too," James said. "Body heat is a group effort."

It didn't seem possible, but Evaline found her love for James growing more and more everyday. She didn't even know what he was doing to make this happen. It was like he was just there to listen, to comfort, and to love back. And maybe he was right. It was enough.

She remembered the lullaby he sang her, and the memory of it he shared. How she was the radiant sun and he was the ocean protecting her. But in her eyes, it was the opposite. James was like a shining beacon of hope. And she didn't think she even believed in hope.

It was strangely cathartic to not keep the thoughts, emotions, and secrets pent-up in her heart. She felt like she was burdening him with her own massive flaws she couldn't hide anymore, but he hadn't left, or shown any indication he would. Maybe this really was the path of healing.

Traveling through the desert was getting to be increasingly difficult, but they managed to make do and find time for each other despite the looming dangers. In Nye, there was always the threat of both nature, outlaws, and bounty hunters after them. At least, on Earth, it was only nature. It wasn't completely safe, but in comparison, they felt safer.

It was the day before the rendezvous point for Hendrik and Malkiel. There were supposed to meet in a cavern of some rocky cliffs, and Evaline and James had reached the beginnings of it before nightfall. Come tomorrow, they simply had to follow the edge of it until they inevitably run into Bongo and Higgins, who were hard to miss.

Evaline sat next to James on the bottom edge of the flat rocky plateau. It wasn't as cold as it was a few days ago, but the night was still chilly, especially without a fire. But it could be worse, and Evaline was just glad they could comfortably sit.

She explained the plan tomorrow to James, predicting that they'd get there by late afternoon. Still, she sensed some apprehension that wasn't present when she went through a similar itinerary from the first rendezvous with Mel, Alistair, and Elise. She figured it was because he didn't exactly get along with Malkiel.

"We don't have to stay with them very long," she said. "We don't even have to stay at all if you want. We could exchange supplies and be on our way if that's what you prefer."

"I don't think that's necessary," James said.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "I know your last interaction with Malkiel wasn't... pleasant. I wouldn't want you to feel like you're overstaying when we really don't have to."

"I like Hendrik," James said. "At least, when he's sober and not all in my space. Malkiel can be an adult and choose whether or not he wants to interact. I don't want to let his supicion keep me from having other friendships."

"Okay," Evaline said. "I know he can be hostile for no reason sometimes. If you do get uncomfortable, though..."

"Malkiel has yet to try to hurt me physically," James said. "At least, beyond restraining me with his powers. Honestly, he's easier to be around than Tula. If I had to pick. Maybe I shouldn't compare, though. That sounds... yeah. I should be fine, but I'll let you know."

"Well, if you're worried about either of them physically hurting you, then you can rest easy," she said. "They both have their own reasons to be apprehensive about hurting others. It's just not Tula's strength, and Malkiel, well... I don't think he'd have it in him. He likes to threaten, but he hardly ever follows through with it."

"Then I should be fine," James said. "The worst Malkiel will do will probably just be... saying a lot of insensitive things, which wouldn't be new or surprising."

"Yeah," she said, thinking about what James had told her weeks ago. "But like you said, not all pain is physical. I'll shut him down if need be, but I can't promise he won't cross the line."

"He's been suspicious ever since I met him," James said. "The most he's done was grab my wrist to keep me from walking off. And that was way back at the Day of Peace party."

Evaline sharply turned her head towards him, concerned despite the Day of Peace being months ago.

"Why did he do that?" she asked.

"He wanted to keep questioning me," James said. "He was insistent on wanting to know why I was lying about where I was from and why you were protecting me, and I just pulled away. That was when I went into the crowd and ended up dancing with you. It was -- well, it started as an escape from him. But he did run into me later... he was drunk by that point, though. No sense of volume control."

Evaline found herself sighing loudly with a groan at the back of her throat. And she thought she was dramatic. Malkiel was just as dramatic, if not more. It seemed that he never grew out of it, but she didn't really blame him.

"Of course he did that," she said dismissively. "I should just come clean and tell him I was the spy. I'm sure he'd love that."

"Considering he was warning me about you even back then," James said, looking over at her with a raised brow. "I feel like that wouldn't be the wisest decision."

Evaline knew that everyone else knew that Malkiel doubted everything she ever said, and always tried to find ways to tear her down. She just didn't know what James knew.

She looked back over with disgruntled expression, not liking where this conversation was going, but forcing herself to face it anyways.

"What did he say about me?" she asked.

"Um... well, in general? Or at the Day of Peace Party?" James asked.

Evaline blinked. There was... more than one instance?

"Uhh," she stammered. "I guess... both?"

James nodded.

"Well, the first time we talked at the party, he didn't say much about you at all," James said. "Other than wondering why you were protecting me. He was more focused on me. But when I saw him later, after I danced with you, he commented on the dance. He was... weird."

"What do you mean, weird?"

"He was all: 'We both used to dance, but it seems she's found a new partner.' And: 'It always starts with one dance, but then you'll want another, and another...'" James said, sounding like he was trying to imitate (or rather, mock) Malkiel's voice. "Very cryptic. And I mean, he's alluded to something happening between you two more than once, but he's never said anything specific, and I honestly would rather not hear it from him. Since all he seems to bring the conversation is bitter remarks."

It should have been amusing to hear James talk in a higher-pitched voice to mimic Malkiel, but she found herself pulling the blanket tighter around her, visibly getting more uncomfortable as she felt the stinging heat of embarrassment rise to her face.

Well, if they were going to be forced to interact together, it was best to just come clean now.

James seemed to notice her discomfort, and he looked over to her apologetically, with concern.

"Sorry," he said, backpedaling. "Did I..."

"No," she said quickly and loudly, glancing at him. "No, it's fine. You don't need to apologize for answering my question. I just didn't know he was so... dramatic about it all. I'm just... bracing myself. That's all."

James raised a brow, still looking concerned.

"You do know that..." Evaline found herself blurting out, deciding to just let her thoughts escape without filtering it out. "You do know that by 'dance', he doesn't actually mean... dance... Right?"

She watched as James looked at her blankly, like it was taking a second for it to sink in. He blinked, and then turned to stare at the ground, facepalming.

"Gods," he muttered, holding the bridge of his nose. "Wow. Okay. I'm sorry that went right over my head."

This was a very uncomfortable conversation, but Evaline did want to be clear with him. And, to be honest, she had no idea if James still understood.

"Do you, uh..." she began, clearing her throat, casually looking over the flat lands of the desert as she ignored the embarrassment pooling in her cheeks. "Do you understand?"

"If it was supposed to be an innuendo alluding to... sleeping together, then yes," James said with a sigh as he looked back up at her, looking more exasperated with himself than anything.

"You know, it's a different culture on Earth," Evaline found herself quickly saying, feeling the need to justify herself since she knew James was much more modest. "It's to upkeep peace. That culture. Intimacy was instilled since we were young, as long as it's consenting. It -- I mean, that's probably why you've meet so many handsy people, and why I was -- back then... well... I don't know if this helps at all."

"It helps make sense of some things," James said. "I'd kind of already... picked up on some of that, but it helps to have it confirmed. I'm sorry I keep - apparently - misunderstanding things. I would've --"

He huffed, shaking his head.

"It's fine!" Evaline said with a strained smile, not knowing why her tone suddenly got louder. "Really. It's fine."

"You don't have to justify it, you know," James said. "I'm not -- you know I don't judge you for it or anything, right?"

"I... well..."

She actually didn't really know.

"I just don't want to make you uncomfortable," she said instead. "You already know I'm fine with our pace. I just don't want you to feel pressured by it. Or weird about that, or my history, or the culture. I don't know. I just know I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

"I'm not," James said. "I don't know that I'll ever personally be able to adapt to earthen culture in that regard, but I know I don't have to, and I know we're both on the same page with each other. As for who you've slept with or didn't sleep with in the past, I'm not uncomfortable with or threatened by that. If that's what you're getting at."

There were a lot of things Evaline could have said. She could have told him that the culture of intimacy was only encouraged and not everyone did adapt to it. She could have told him what happened with Malkiel, or even that what she had with him and others were completely loveless and meant absolutely nothing. But she didn't want this to be about herself, nor did she care to delve into excessive detail about it without prompt.

"I very much prefer what we have than anything I had in the past," she said instead. "But at any rate... I'm not uncomfortable with your history either."

James's eyes almost immediately dropped to the ground.

"That's--" James said, but there was a stuttered pause, and it looked like he hurried to finish his thought. "Good."

His eyebrows twitched together for a second, like he was cringing at his own awkward response.

Evaline was only expecting maybe a thank you in response and they could move on. She wished she knew what was running through his head.

"Everything okay?" she asked when she detected his discomfort.

"No--yes, I mean-- I was just thinking," James said, pinching his eyes shut and tilting his head to the side.

"About...?" she asked, not sure if it was about his past or hers, and she'd rather they clear the air if this upset him.

"Just my own history. You... being okay with it, even though you don't know it," he said quickly, his words almost running together.

Evaline was quiet for a moment. She understood the sentiments well.

"Do you want me to know?" she asked gently. "Instead of giving you blank statements that may come off as ignorant?"

"I'm just... afraid you might look at me differently," he said quietly.

She reached over and placed her hand on top of his knee.

"I don't think it's possible for me to like you any less, nevertheless see you differently," she said. "I'm happy to listen, and just like you, I won't judge."

"It's just-- I don't know how to-- I'd have to start from the beginning," he said quietly. "I don't know how else to explain all of it."

"Well, I'm not very tired," Evaline said with a small smile. "I've got plenty of time to hear a long story."

James looked over at her with his eyebrows pulled together in anxiety, but it looked like he was sitting up a little straighter. He took in a quiet breath and let it out, creating a small puff of smoke around his face in the cold air.

"After I left Brett, Kaia, Adina, and Ari," James said. "The other outlaws I traveled with--" he paused, looking to her as if to make sure she remembered, and she nodded, recalling him mentioning their adventures when she spent the night after the Day of Peace.

"I split off with Rosaleen, actually. We didn't really announce, but we both mutually knew that, for us, it was better we left the others behind, since Brett and Ari had a possible pathway to freedom open to them, and Adina and Kaia were going to find other mages. I ended up traveling with her to the borders of a large city by the name of Ruddlan. It wasn't exactly in the Outlands, but the Outlands in and of themselves are a 'gray area' since there aren't defined borders. When Rosaleen and I parted ways, I traveled further north into that gray area, and I didn't make it very far before I ran into trouble."

"I ran into a gang of thieves. I can't say for sure if I stumbled upon them or if they stumbled upon me, but... the encounter ended with an ultimatum. They would either rob me of everything I had, including the clothes off my back, and leave me for dead, or I could accept their offer... at joining them. The leader of the gang recognized me, though she didn't let on at first. I was thoroughly outnumbered, so I didn't really have options."

He paused, flicking his eyes over to her. She knew James liked to tell stories in detail, so Evaline waited to react until he finished.

"This isn't how they normally get new recruits, if you can even call them that. Gang members. Whatever you want to call them. But I agreed mostly because... well, I didn't want to lose Elliot. I'd just gotten him back from the stable he'd been at, and it--"

He let out a weak laugh through his nose.

"You know, it would be funny to say I joined a gang of thieves just to keep a horse if the alternative wasn't being left naked, beaten, and alone in a forest. I don't know. I wish I could laugh at it anyway," he said with a pained smile.

"I told them my name was Liam, and whether people recognized me or not, they all seemed to go along with it. It's possible that I looked different enough--" he paused, looking at her again. "You know, I did have a mustache. Just before I ran into them. I feel like nobody recognized me with it. It was honestly ridiculous. Just... a mustache. But -- sorry, I digress."

Evaline smiled, thinking the nervous tangent to the mustache comments were kind of cute. Although, she couldn't imagine him with a mustache anyways. She decided to not stop the conversation to be hung up on that detail, though.

James cleared his throat.

"Early on, I realized that the whole culture of the gang was very..." he stared out into the darkness for a moment, squinting. "Well, I acted like a very different person. I was trying to take my cues from everyone else on what would be best accepted in an environment I was being forced into, because eventually, I was hoping to find a way out that didn't involve violence. Essentially, I was trying to get everyone to like me, and trust me. Most of the gang seemed to like people who were more outgoing, and loud, and friendly... so, I know it may be difficult to imagine, but I was essentially acting... all of the time. Even from the start, I was putting on a mask."

James sighed through his nose as he leaned his head back on the rock behind them, looking up at the starry sky.

"I don't really know how to say it, so I'll just say it," he said, his voice getting quieter. "They drank a lot. Inordinate amounts, and I slowly started abusing it. What was, for them, just drinking to have a good time became for me, drinking to... I don't know. Feel something. Cope with the fact that I felt like I was losing myself. Trying to forget everything. I don't know. I felt less like myself than I ever had. I didn't even recognize myself anymore, and I just... kept going."

Evaline waited to see if James wanted to keep going since, well, he hadn't even started the part of the story about his past relationship. But he seemed to pause longer than natural, perhaps waiting to gauge her reaction.

This part didn't exactly surprise her. She figured James struggled with addiction in the past, but she didn't want to bring it up and trigger him, especially since he had purposefully overdosed so recently. She only wanted to offer empathy and support.

Although, admittedly, she had hid some of the pain medication away from him in fear that it would tempt him again. But James didn't need to know that now or any time soon, and she was sure he'd understand.

Her hand was still on his knee, and she rubbed her thumb against it as a silent gesture of support.

"I know you don't drink anymore," Evaline said gently. "And I think that's all that matters now. You know now that you don't need it to get by."

James glanced at her, but it looked like he was still trying to stay focused on the story, not fully tearing himself away from it. He looked back out at the sky.

"They also occasionally did... a semi-common drug on Nye that I've mentioned before," James said slowly. "It wasn't near as frequent as all of the... drinking. But that's all to say, that I wasn't exactly my best self. Or much of myself at all. Or at least, not who I wanted to be."

This didn't surprise Evaline either. She was just glad that he could admit it to her. It must not be easy.

If his hand were out for taking, she would take it and give it a squeeze to let him know that she understood and was here for him.

"The leader of the gang was a woman by the name of Rita. Who I might've mentioned briefly in passing. But she kept an eye on me while I was there, and had people constantly watching me. Whether they ever said it explicitly or not, I knew people were buttering up to me not just out of genuine interest, but because Rita was trying to... I don't know, figure me out. Or just keep me from running away. Both. It was both. I never really connected with any of the other gang members beyond a shallow level - and anything deeper than that was completely fabricated on my end."

He paused again, and she could see his face growing more serious.

"I was never allowed to go out on heists because Rita didn't trust me. She kept telling me that I would have a chance to 'prove myself useful,' but I didn't know what that meant. Not to her. But I suspected that she was alluding to my wanted status... and I wasn't wrong. But... that didn't become relevant until later, when she revealed her hand."

"Until then, I was essentially a prisoner in their hideout. Constantly being monitored, and having limited freedom for where I could go and who with. One of the people who was assigned to keep an eye on me was Bella."

He paused again, but this time he furrowed his brows and looked away, to the side. Though she couldn't see his face, she could sense his shame without him even voicing it.

"We were just friends, at the start," he said. "At least, friends in the sense that I was being the kind of friend she seemed to want. I can't say it was all fake, because there were moments where I was genuine. Or there were pieces of myself that would slip through. But I felt guilty even before we ever... got more involved."

"I wasn't trying to get into a relationship," James said, his voice getting quieter. "It was like it just happened. It was like a horseless carriage rolling down a hill, bound to crash, and I knew more about how it would end than Bella did. The whole time I felt like -- she didn't deserve that, you know. She didn't. I should've just been honest, at least about her, but I didn't know how to do anything but just --"

James slouched forward, leaning his forearms on his knees as he tucked his legs up, still looking away from her.

"I'd just convinced myself that at that point, I just had to make people happy, and that was how I'd survive all of it," James said. "I know maybe it doesn't make sense. And it all backfired, anyway. I just-- I don't know. I wish I would've tried harder to sneak out, or break away the first time. Or that I'd just taken the beating and figured it out. I could've stolen Elliot back, or... I don't know. Things went wrong so quickly. I though bounty hunters were the worst of my problems. But this..."

James trailed off, and after a few long seconds it became clear that he wasn't going to pick up his thoughts any time soon. At least, not without prompt.

"Hurt more?" Evaline guessed for him.

"Rita was the one who found my journal," James said, not answering her question. "And taunted me with it."

"You were just trying to survive, James," she said gently. "You did what you had to do. And it worked."

"But then I ruined it. On the first and only heist I was ever sent out on, I made a mistake, and it got one of their men killed," James said. "His name was Ron."

"You said it was a mistake."

"The others didn't see it that way," James said, his tone serious. "Ron had a brother named Hoss, and he took it personally."

Evaline was quiet for a moment, putting the pieces together herself.

"So then they outed you?" she asked.

"No," James said. "I wish it was that simple."

He seemed to shrink more into himself as he slouched further, his head almost shielded by the blanket.

"When we returned from the heist, the outrage of Ron's death spread throughout the whole gang," James said. "Apparently, there's a ritual for solving conflicts within the gang. Though calling it a ritual is generous. Apparently, it was customary to rule out the person responsible for the conflict and then let the others take out their anger."

He paused, but only for a second.

"After that, Rita talked to me privately," James said. "She told me that she hadn't told everyone in the gang who I was because she wanted to avoid the possibility of others getting too greedy and running off with me and all of the reward money. She said she had some personal grudges with the Moonlight Kingdom and that she wouldn't turn me in if I gave her information. I told her it would be outdated, but she didn't seem to care. It... felt like she was..."

He swallowed, and lowered his head even further. She could only see the back of his head turned away from her.

"I don't really like to think about... my time with her," he said slowly. "But at that point, I just felt like a pet she was keeping around. And I was desperate to leave. Maybe it was an answer to some kind of quiet wish that Hoss walked in one day with my poster, and told Rita he'd pit the others in the gang against each other and against her if she didn't let him take me."

"Of course... we both knew he didn't want to return me to the kingdom. But she agreed anyway, because she didn't want the whole gang to turnover, and she didn't want to get caught in Hoss's quest for revenge. She'd been protecting me, up until that point. The only person in the gang who didn't mind being associated with me after Ron's death - apart from Rita - was Bella. And... she didn't even know what was happening with Rita and I. And I never got a chance to tell her who I really was before Rita sent me away with Hoss."

Evaline patiently waited again, turning attentively towards him so that James knew that she was listening. She only spoke when there was another longer pause.

"Did you ever get to say goodbye?" she asked gently.

"When Hoss left with me," James said. "Elliot was left behind. Hoss had left in the middle of the night while the others were asleep, but Bella must have noticed I was... gone for too long, and she followed. On Elliot."

"What happened after that?" Evaline asked when James didn't go on himself.

"Hoss took me out into the woods and... I was inches from death when Bella caught up and intervened," James said, his voice sounding hollow. "I only got away because of her. But I wasn't even able to... I never got to say goodbye. I was barely able to get on Elliot."

Evaline could now understand the pain, shame, and guilt he felt about Bella. He had led her to believe they were in a relationship, and after she saved him, he simply ran away without saying goodbye. He was always apologizing and taking blame for things. Evaline could see him not being able to forgive himself over this, either.

"I only knew it was her because I heard her voice," James said, even quieter. "I was... too bloody to see."

"I'm so sorry that happened, James," she said softly, deciding to start with that first. "You don't deserve any of this pain..."

"I brought it on myself," James said quickly. "With Bella. If I'd just been myself..."

He laughed bitterly.

"Well, I guess I wouldn't be here," James said lowly. "I was ready to just... take it, back then. I wanted it to be over quickly. Hoss didn't."

"Did he..." She swallowed. "Greatly hurt you, without the intent of killing you?"

"The intention was to kill me slowly," James said. He sounded more an more distant as the conversation went on.

Evaline inched closer and wrapped her arm around his shoulder, bringing him in closer if he wanted the support. He seemed to curl up tighter under her arm, not quite leaning into it, but not pulling away.

"You didn't deserve that, James," she said softly. "I wish you could live a life without so much pain. I'm so sorry that happened."

"Sometimes I just feel like somehow... I attract all these impossible situations, and I always barely make it out alive," James said quietly. "But over the years I've just gotten so tired. So tired of almost always being hurt, one way or another. Always being in pain. Always having to fight, and lie, and run, and it's like there's no end to it. Like there was no end to it. I don't know how to tell you just how close I was to giving up before I came here. I didn't want to make it another day. I told myself, either I end it all now, or I can never be myself again. I'd just have to be someone else, and then I'd never get hurt again. Because if no one ever knew me, at least they it wouldn't hurt as much. And it wasn't like anyone really knew me anyway. Not... not really."

Evaline leaned closer to him, her arm still draped across his back with her hand landing on his opposite shoulder. She rubbed it gently as he slouched and hugged himself, letting a small silence pass. She didn't want to say anything that could be interpreted to be insensitive.

"I know I've already told you this," she said in a soft but soothing voice. "But I'm so glad you're here. I'm so glad that we met again. I'm so glad that you're truly yourself. And most of all, I'm so glad that you didn't decide to end it all. I'm so happy you're here, James. Truly. I'm just so sorry that you had to endure so much pain for our lives to be able to cross again."

James finally leaned into her side, still curled up in his own ball within himself.

"I feel so numb," he whispered.

"Would you like to share blankets?" she whispered back. "Maybe the warmth will help."

"I am cold," he said, barely audible. "Sure."

Evaline lifted the edge of her blanket closest to him and then draped it across his back and shoulder. It meant less for her, and she didn't want to pry the blanket off him if he was cold, but she didn't mind. James, though, seemed to want to share, as he opened half of the blanket around one of his arms like a wing, and brought it around her back as well. She gladly accepted the invitation, leaning her head on his shoulder as they bundled together.

"Have you figured out what it means to be you yet?" she asked delicately, breaking the fragile silence.

James didn't respond right away, but Evaline patiently waited.

"I want to be honest," he said quietly. "I want to be kind."

"And you are honest, and you are kind," she said.

"I just don't want to feel like this forever," he said under his breath. "Like I want to die."

Evaline took a silent deep breath. She didn't want him to die either. But it wasn't about what she wanted right now.

"Do you still want that?" she asked calmly, even though it pained her that she felt like she had to ask it.

"I don't, but I do," he said. "It's like a shadow in my mind that only shows itself when... when I remember certain things, or feel a certain way. And then it feels all consuming. But I don't want to want to die."

Evaline hugged him a little tighter. "Have you felt that way since we've been traveling?"

James's answer was delayed.

"Only... after the memories of the Gaea started coming back," James said quietly. "And... and a little... now."

"Because of the painful memories?" she whispered.

"Yeah," he whispered back.

"Would it help if I used my memory power on you?" she asked. "So you can feel something else, and I can remind you of a memory that's less painful?"

"I'd be afraid to mess up and accidentally show you one of the things swimming in my head right now," James rasped.

Evaline wished she could help, but she understood James's sentiments. She didn't like how powerless she felt, not being able to do anything but watch him suffer.

"Maybe if we just--" James started to say, weakly. "Talked about something else?"

Evaline grasped for a different subject. Anything. Anything that wasn't heavy or could lead to intrusive thoughts or feelings.

She stared down at Sleepy nesting between them.

"...Do you think Sleepy will lay eggs?" she asked, cringing at the randomness of the topic change, but it was the first panicked thought that came to mind.

"Chickens need to have time to nest to do that," James said after a pause. "Unless Earth chickens are different."

"I have no idea," she admitted. "I don't really know anything about farm animals. But Hendrik would probably know."

"Maybe we can ask him tomorrow," James said. "Then he could make fun of me for not knowing, but we'd also learn."

"What would we even do with eggs, anyways? Eat them?"

"Do you eat eggs?" he asked.

"I have in the past when I didn't have much else to eat," Evaline said, then paused in thought for a moment. "Does it hurt the chicken to lay an egg...?"

"No," James said. "Though, I can't speak from experience."

"Shame," she deadpanned. "Sleepy could have taken lessons from you."

"I'm not going to make another fertility joke, but just imagine one," James said just as flatly.

"I'll reproduce one in my head."

"Oh, gods," James muttered with a faint little laugh that seemed to resonate in his chest. "That was bad."

"I blame you," Evaline said with a little smile as she tilted her head up at him. "My humor has evolved."

"I can't tell if it's for better or worse," James said with a slight smirk. He still seemed drain, but it was nice to see him smiling a little.

"I can lay off if it's for the worse," she said innocently. "No more jokes. Just seriousness, all the time. Just for you."

"Oh, please don't," James said quickly. "I like your jokes. Even when they're bad ones."

"Is that so," she mused. "I guess I'll have to think of even worse ones for you, then."

"Give me your worst," James said teasingly.

Evaline glanced at him. "You want me to say a bad joke right now?" she asked, a little surprised, but also amused.

"Yes," James said, looking to her with a weak smile. "Right now."

Evaline squinted into the night in front of them, really trying to think of a joke on the spot. She wasn't someone who had a bank of jokes ready for disposal, but the silence grew to be too long, and she began to panic.

She glanced down at Sleepy again and said the first thing on her mind.

"Why did the chicken go to prison?" she asked.

James hummed.

"Why?" he asked.

"Crimes," she said simply, not realizing until after she said it that was such a stupid joke. If it could even be called a joke.

James was quiet for a moment, and then she heard him huff, and begin to laugh weakly.

"That really was bad," he said with a hint of laughter in his voice. "Perfect. Exactly what I asked for. Thank you."

"No problem," Evaline said with a growing smile, even if it was slightly out of embarrassment. "That's what I'm here for."

It was nice to see him smiling again.

"I'm sure Sleepy appreciates the chicken jokes too," he said, reaching his hand under the blanket beside him, where Sleepy was huddled by his hip.

"Maybe not any that are about committing crimes and going to prison, though."

"Sleepy hasn't committed any crimes that we know of," James said. "It's all in good fun."

"Oh, yes she has," Evaline said with a smirk as she reached over and patted where she thought Sleepy was nested under the blanket. "The crime of being cute."

"Then you are also guilty," James said. "Of cuteness. It's a good thing neither of you have been caught."

Evaline sneered, realizing she had walked into that one. "Who's going to catch us?" she teased, ignoring the compliment. "Anti-cute bounty hunters?"

James snorted, and he reached over out of the blanket, briefly pinching her nose between his fingers.

"Me."

Evaline scrunched her face as he pinched her nose, looking dismayed because James kept one-upping her.

"Oh, well, yeah, then you're a bad bounty hunter," she spat. "Since you've kept us around."

"Or I'm the best," James countered, pulling his hand away from her face as he looked at her with a tired little grin. "Because you had no idea. At least, until now."

"Wanted man on the run, now a bounty hunter," she mused. "Traveling with a cute chicken and time traveler. Adventures include horse-riding, drama, and cuddling. You know, this could very well be a book."

"Well I'm happy to be living it instead," James said.

Evaline let out a breathy laugh, her gaze resting back at him and his tired but sincere eyes. James always knew what to say, even in wits.

"Yeah," she said with a smile, accepting the loss as a win. "I am too."

They followed along the bottom of a plateau that morning, and the temperature seemed to stay low even into the middle of the day. Staying on the move kept them warm, but the cold still pinched at their cheeks. Eventually, they both used extra shirts as scarves for their necks and faces, and James ended up sticking Sleepy halfway in the saddle-bag, partially wrapped in a blanket.

Thankfully, Elliot had a warm saddle blanket, and by now, his fur was thick and fuzzy, prepared for the weather. And fortunately, this was far from the worst winter either of them had endured. James was just glad that they didn't have to deal with being buried by inches of snow.

At about mid-afternoon, they started rounding the edge of the plateau, and it looked like the desert rock walls extended further. It wasn't quite a canyon, but the rock formations seemed to coalesce into a wall. Seeing as the land on the side of it was still comparatively flat, it was easy to see the prints that seemed to meet up a small distance ahead of them, and James was easily able to recognize them as belonging to Bongo and Higgins.

There was a small path they'd weaved through the various rocks and desert plants, and they followed it until it let them to a cavern carved out in the side of the rocks. It looked like it dipped down into the ground a bit, and inside, they could see Bongo and Higgins curled up next to each other, a campfire, and Hendrik and Malkiel sitting around it.



"Hey, the lovebirds are here," Hendrik said as he caught sight of them, grinning. "Mal and I have been--"

"I have not," Malkiel interrupted, but Hendrik continued anyways.

"-- thinking of what to call you two. We're thinking of Javelin. Like the throwing stick, but also combining James and Evaline. Clever, right? Mal thought of it."

"I did not," Malkiel said again, sounding tired more than anything since he barely looked up at them.

"I suppose it's probably one of the better combinations of our names," James commented neutrally as he let Elliot down into the cavern and pulled the scarf down from his face.

He brought Elliot close to Bongo and Higgins, where they were resting beside some stalagtites and stalagmites both around and above them. James used one of the ones reaching up out of the ground as a post to tie Elliot to, and then plucked Sleepy out of the saddlebag and into his arms. He stashed the scarf away, since it was a little warmer in the cavern with the fire going.

"Hey, Hendrik," Evaline said as she approached them while James tied Elliot up. "Hope we're not late."

"Not at all," Hendrik said as he patted the spot next to him. "I'd ask you if you want some of our food, but I think we're eating the same things. Insant freeze-dried packets?"

"Yep," she said with a sigh.

"Just like the old days," Hendrik continued. "I like the chicken flavor ones. But it's just flavored chicken. Not like I'm actually eating chicken."

He glanced back at James.

"Speaking of which, where's your pet chicken?" he asked.

James held Sleepy a little tighter in his arms, and she snuggled in.

"Sleepy's not for eating," he said as he walked over to the fire and sat a small distance from Hendrik, keeping an eye on him.

Hendrik narrowed his eyes at him, unamused. "You really think I want to eat your pet chicken that I gifted you?"

James raised his eyebrows and shrugged defensively.

"Just saying, is all," James said with a small smile.

Hendrik broke out of the unapproving look, shrugging himself before changing the topic.

"So, how were your last two weeks?" he asked over to him and Evaline.

Evaline, however, strategically raised her canteen to her lips at this time, silently passing the baton over to James.

"They were fine, all things considered," James said casually. "We didn't really run into much trouble, apart from it being a little chilly and all. How about you two?"

Hendrik hummed. "Malkiel can answer."

Malkiel deeply sighed. "You're not going to let me live that down, are you?" he said with irritation.

"We almost fell into a sandpit because of him," Hendrik answered for him. "Clumsy man, that one."

Malkiel simply ignored Hendrik, and although Evaline didn't respond either, it looked like she was repressing a smirk. The three of them shared a knowing look.

"Well, I'm glad you two made it out alright," James said. "Better to have an 'almost' than for it to actually happen."

"Wise words, Jamie," Hendrik said with a smirk. "Gotten used to his wisdom yet, Evaline?"

"I'm growing so much wiser every day," she dead-panned over at James. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, Eve," James dead-panned back.

"Nothing eventful happened, huh?" Malkiel asked, glaring at James. Or maybe he was always glaring. James couldn't remember a time he wasn't.

"Just a lot of walking and the usual mundanity of travel," James said with a shrug. "I'm not too upset about it, really. I much prefer that."

"Nothing happened?" he continued to prod, like he didn't believe a simple statement. "You and Evaline didn't run into trouble, or do anything else?"

James slow-blinked at Malkiel, furrowing his brows.

"Malkiel, you don't just ask a new couple if they've done anything," Hendrik teased with a wink at James and Evaline. "That's none of your business."

Malkiel groaned. "Never mind," he grumbled as he leaned forward and checked out from the conversation.

"Hendrik," James said, changing the conversation. "I finished that story I was talking to you about if you want to read it later."

"Oh, yes," Hendrik said with a smile, looking pleased. "Better yet, why not share it with everyone? If you're comfortable, that is. You're a good storyteller."

James raised his brows and pursed his lips into a small pout as he hummed.

"Well... I suppose so," James said, looking from Evaline to Hendrik. His eyes only caught on Malkiel for a second, as it seemd Malkiel wasn't interested in joining the conversation.

"I wouldn't mind hearing it," Evaline said with a little smile.

"See," Hendrik went on. "Everyone wants to hear it."

James wasn't going to argue with Hendrik about "everyone" being potentially incorrect, so he just tilted his head to the side with a small smile of acceptance.

"Alright then," he said. "Campfire story it is."

He took a deep breath and a moment to get the details right in his head. He'd written down a final version, but he'd fantasized about it dozens of times before that, usually when he was keeping watch or trying to fall asleep.

The story started in a small town, and James built up small but solid connections between the miner and his family. The miner was named Josef and he had a wife and two sons. His wife, Wendy, who would always sing him a song with his boys whenever he came home after a long day in the mines.

At the end of the road
Though it is late
Your family is patient to wait
You're coming home and we will see
You in a second--

And at that point, the father would always run up before they could ever finish and interject with: "And hug me!"

And at that, he would pick them all up in his arms and spin them around.

Though the family didn't have much to their name, Josef was content to work long days so he could put food on the table. So day after day, he would make the walk down the hill, to the mountain, and deep into the mines.

"It was an ordinary day when Josef home after work," James continued. "But he noticed that his family wasn't outside to greet him like they normally were. Alarmed and concerned, he hurried up to the door of their small home, and he found that the door was unlocked. Inside, he found a tax collector standing in the middle of the room, talking to his wife. Wendy was quick to point the tax collector to Josef, but when the tax collector requested the money that was due, it was far more than they could afford."

"Josef was able to strike a deal with the man. Three more days was all he was given to sell whatever he needed to and earn enough money to pay back his debt and balance the books. As the tax collector left their home, Josef's heart sank, because he knew there was no way he could get that much money in only three days. Not without great cost to his family's livelihood."

James explained how Josef then worked long hours at the mines for the next two days. Digging deeper, and deeper, desperately trying to find something of worth. Ever in the back of his mind were his wife and his kids, and that was what drove him to spend the nights deep in the mines. Soon, the light of a sole lamp became his friend and the clinking of the axe against the rock rang in his ears like a song that went on and on.

The night before the third day, Josef dug beyond where the mine had shafts of support, deciding to take the risk.

But as Hendrik likely predicted - since he'd already discussed some of his ideas already - the walls around him caved in.

Josef found himself trapped on every side, and he was enclosed in the darkness.

"But as he scrambled around and finally fumbled enough to light a match, something embedded in the wall caught the light. The glint caught his eyes, and he lifted the battered lantern to the wall, seeing what looked like a diamond," James said. "But the air was getting thin. He could feel that his breaths were numbered - but he knew if he ever managed to burst through the wall that had collapsed around him, he might lose this. Whatever it was. So he held his breath and hammered away with hurried strikes, chipping away the earth around it until he hit something hard. Something bigger than just a tiny fractured diamond embedded in the earth."

"With one last blow, he manadged to dislodge a hardened piece of earth, and out of the wall fell out a diamond twice the size of his hand."

James held out his hands, creating a shape in the air to indicate the size.

"At this point, his breaths were shallow, and the air was suffocating. Sweat and dirt clung to his skin, and the dim light of the lamp was just enough to illuminate the clear crystal he held in his palms, like his saving grace - not just for himself, but for his family. With a pocket of hope in his chest, he shoved the heavy crystal in his satchel and lifted his axe, fighting against the wall to get out. The rocks were heavy, and though some of them gave way, it seemed for every rock he pushed aside, more dirt and rocks would stumble down around him."

"The lack of oxygen started to make his lungs ache and sting. Desperation started taking hold as he pushed ahead with his hands, digging and digging. He felt the dirt loosen around his wrist as he dug his hand into the earth, and his arm went through. He could feel open air on the other side, and he could almost taste it. With increased vigor, he dug his other arm in, and managed to crawl through a small opening, gasping for air as he reached the other side."

"Or at least, that was what he thought. As oxygen entered back into his lungs, he couldn't help but feel like something was wrong. He was stuck. He couldn't fit through the little crevice, and he could feel the fat crystal in his satchel catching on a hard rock."

"Hesitantly, Josef slipped back into the oxygen-deprived prison he'd come from, in hopes that he could loose the satchel and take it off, pushing it ahead of him. But he couldn't go back in either. The crystal was stuck, and so was he."

"So he cried out for help. In the darkness, and in the middle of the night he knew the mines should've been empty, but he could hear his voice echo off the walls, and he hoped that would be enough."

"Minutes passed, and his voice grew hoarse as he waited, and waited, and finally decided to push against the satchel trapping him in place. He struggled to clamber and claw his way out, finally feeling the seam of the strap around his shoulder starting to rip. His stomach dropped as he felt his shoulder come free, and at the same time, he heard a song echo down the cave."

"It was the voices of his children, and his wife. At the end of the road, though it is late, your family is patient to wait... and Josef finally broke free. He made it out, panting, and panickedly reached back in to try and pull the satchel out, and the crystal that would settle his debt. But just as he reached his arm and stuck his head in, he heard the song go on. You're coming home and we will see you in a second--"

James motioned with his hands in the air, like rocks collapsing.

"Don't wait for me," he said in a sing-song voice as his fingers wiggled in the air.

"As the dust settled, Josef saw himself running up to his family, picking them up in his arms. But that morning, he was found buried and crushed under the rocks. When his fellow miners finally managed to dig out his body, they found him holding the crystal in his arms instead."

James paused, looking at Hendrik and Evaline. They were both leaned forward, clearly invested.

"The end."

"Wait a moment," Hendrik said with his eyebrows furrowed, displeased. "That seems like a rushed ending. Was Josef not with his family?"

"He died," James said. "Is that why it feels rushed?"

"I got that," he said with a scoff. "Seems you gave so much build-up and backstory, but then it ends abruptly."

"Sometimes deaths are abrupt," James said. "But I'll go back to the drawing board and see if I can drag it out a little bit if you think that's what it needs."

Hendrik hummed. "Maybe draw the ending out a bit," he suggested. "More details. Not just sudden transition to death."

"I kind of like how it's not as detailed," Evaline said. "I think it makes the message of the ending more effective."

"And what message is that?" Hendrik asked.

"I'd be interested to hear what both of you took away from it," James said, leaning his elbow on his knee and resting his chin in his palm.

"I think it's what you said," Evaline said as she lightly gestured towards him. "Sometimes death is abrupt, but so is life. Life can be normal one day, then come crashing down the next."

"I think the man should've brought a better satchel," Hendrik said like it was a joke, but he looked deep in thought.

"Maybe," James said, entertaining him anyway. "But would it change the fact that it got caught on a rock? Does having better supplies rule out chance?"

"What was your message that you intended to write?" Hendrik asked instead.

James drifted his gaze from Malkiel back to Hendrik.

"Well, I think with any story, it's open to interpretation and everyone always gets something a little different out of it based on the nuances of their own unique perspective," James said. "But all I really wanted to explore with it was the concept that sometimes what you think is really important in one moment isn't the most important thing. It's possible that if Josef didn't bother digging out the crystal, or just didn't go back to grab it that he would've gotten out and been alive to go back and see his family. Sometimes in moments of great stress, we lose sight of the bigger picture. At least, that was the main thing going through my mind when I came up with the story."

Hendrik hummed again, pleased with his answer. "Did you have that message in mind when you wrote it?" he asked.

"Yes," James said. "But like I said, I'm still curious to hear what you got out of it too."

"You know what I got out of it?" Hendrik continued with a small grin. "You're a damn good storyteller. I asked to read it at first, but now I ought to ask you to read to me from now on. Even so, you make a fine author."

James bowed his head in a small nod of gratitude.

"Thanks," James said, deciding to edit out any comments of modesty and just say thank you. "I'll still try to take your feedback so I can make it better, though."

"Would you say greed is a recurring theme?" Evaline suddenly asked. "It seems that Josef had to choose between money or family, and he picked money at the end - or the crystal, which would be sold for money."

"Do you think it was greed that motivated him to take the crystal? Or could it have been his family that he had in mind while trying to dig it out?" James asked. "He's a fictional character, and I didn't develop him that much, so I don't think there's a solid answer. But I think it could be more complex than just greed. Sometimes you do foolish things with good intentions for people you really care about, even if it backfires."

"I suppose so," she continued, also leaning forward, looking to be in thought. "Ironically, Josef did all of that for survival. Or rather, security for him and his family."

"Sometimes survival is more important than security," James posed. "Security means nothing if you're not around to enjoy the benefits of it."

"You're right," she said. "Survival is more important at the risk of security. I think if Josef would have known the grief he'd cause his family that stemmed from his desire to protect them, he would have never gone to the mine in the first place. He'd enjoy what he had with them - together - even if it meant starting over."

"Alright, great talks, everyone," Hendrik cut in. "Malkiel? Any input into the story? Or this philosophical discussion?"

Malkiel didn't look hostile, but he didn't look happy to be here either. If anything, he looked bored.

"Yeah," he said flatly as he glanced over at James. "Nice story."

James looked at Malkiel with his eyebrows raising a little in surprised, not having expected a compliment. Even though it was said with the least amount of enthusiasm possible, James decided to take it.

"Thanks, Malkiel," James said with a little nod in his direction.

Hendrik low-whistled. "The story's got his seal of approval," he said. "Why don't we exchange stories ourselves now, hm? Mal, care to go first?"

"It's your idea. Why don't you go?" Malkiel shot back.

Hendrik hummed again, drumming his fingers along his knees before he started to grin.

"This one is about a man nicknamed Miraculous Matt, dubbed the One-Hit Wonder," Hendrik began. "Legend has it that he was abandoned in the ungoverned lands as a mere baby, but a family pack of wolfcoons took him as their family. This clan of wolfcoons are sentient since they're under the neander umbrella of spieces, so they were able to help him learn how to walk, speak, and fight. Although, they never did teach him manners, and that is why he eats giant slabs of raw meat with just his hands and teeth."

"As Miraculous Matt grew up, he had to help fight off some opposing neander tribes. Over time, he grew to be bigger, faster, and stronger. He was able to easily wrestle with wolfcoons, and easily wrestle with other tribes who declared war against his family. Eventually the tribes figured out he was actually human and not one of them, and so he was outcasted out to live by himself. But Miraculous Matt was unfazed. He was very resilient, learning how to live off the land and how to take care of himself."

"The adventures of him were never written down, but it is known that he frequently fought beasts of the ungoverned lands. The scars he wore were like a trophy of each battle, and he wore them proudly. He even battled tribalist gangs and communities, refusing to succumb to death despite the odds. It's not known exactly what his power is, but legend says that he's able to defeat his foe with just one punch. It is suspected that he must also have an extremely high pain tolerance, able to withstand ten times as much pain as the average person. This makes him extra resilient, and an even better fighter."

James knew that this story was bout him the moment Hendrik said the name Matt, but as he kept going, James had to fight the urge to groan. He brought his hand to his chin, resting his fingers over his nose and keeping a straight face as Hendrik still kept going.

"It may not surprise you to know that Miraculous Matt is one of the leading roles to creating the safe zone. He drove off beast after beast, and had not only saved himself, but hundreds of other people too. Thousands, if you count indirect saves. But he was a humble man, staying in the shadows. But what really got the folks talking was when he entered the City of Angels to slay a beast with tough bullet-proof skin. And he didn't just slay the beast with his bare hands -- he slayed it with a sword, like an absolute mad man."

"Anyways, he then got scouted by a photographer because of his impeccable jawline, and then he became a model," Hendrik said, then smirked. "The end."

James had to fight against a laugh, forcing his lips into a straight line.

"Wow," he said with sarcasm. "Is that all?"

"I have a question," Evaline said straightly. "Can you describe his impeccable jawline?"

"Why do you want to know?" Hendrik asked innocently. "He's way out of your league boss."

Evaline shrugged, still somehow able to keep a straight face. "I'm just saying. His jawline must be incredible if he got scouted for that instead of his impressive background."

James closed his eyes, silently facepalming.

"Hmm, yes, good point," Hendrik continued. "Sorry, bad at visualizing. James, think you can describe for her?"

James shook his head, still shielding his eyes from the two of them as he pursed his lips.

"I'd be very interested to hear what kind of description you'd come up with," Evaline teased with a smirk in her voice. "Like the men said, you're great at storytelling."

James lifted his head with a deep breath.

"I don't know," he said with a twirl of his hand. "I feel like I'm just not getting a good enough idea of who this Matt guy is. I need more details."

"He's a doctor, for one," Hendrik said. "And a dancer. And a boxer. And great with women, too. Or, woman. Heard she's a model, too."

"Sounds like an enigma to me," James deadpanned. "I'm stumped."

"They're talking about you, James," Malkiel suddenly cut in, looking annoyed with thin patience. "We watched you get fucked up just to get a sword."

"But have you seen the sword?" James asked, gesturing over to Elliot, where the sword hung off the horn of the saddle.

"Have you seen the pictures?" Hendrik asked instead. "You're a collectable. Do you have any spare copies I could have? I'm thinking of starting a collection."

James blinked slowly.

"A what?" he asked, looking over to Hendrik in confusion. "I -- no, I don't."

"Say, Jamie, what would you do if you were famous and loved by everyone?" Hendrik suddenly asked with a grin.

James squinted his eyes at Hendrik.

"I would tell you to stop making up stories," James said.

"The next time you go back to the City of Angels, make sure you mention your buddy Hendrik. Maybe bring me along with you. I could be in your next photo and be collected too."

James put up his hand.

"No," he said. "I don't plan on going there ever again. Especially not if they're... actually weirdly obsessed with me like you're implying."

"I don't know about 'weirdly obsessed,'" Hendrik continued. "More like intrigued. People are trying to figure out where you went so you can get more televised opportunities, and your name comes up time-to-time. I heard there are even joke bounty hunters looking for you, and if they find you, they get the entire Matt Collectible Stock. It's mostly composed of young women, though."

James stared at Hendrik for a second in disbelief before he let out a weak burst of laughter and shook his head, turning to the side with his eyes wide, trying to hide both his embarassment and the mild spike of fear that some of those rumors had more merit.

Bounty hunters. Looking for him. That would be poetic, wouldn't it? And it probably had nothing to do with photo collections and everything to do with the Gaea.

"You're just giving me more reasons not to go back there," James said with his hands up, shaking his head a little with a smile and raised brows. "So, thanks for that."

"Shy?" Hendrik asked. "Didn't know a modeler would be so shy for fame."

"You're really hung up on the model thing," James muttered.

"Should I be hung up on the wolfcoon part instead?"

"I don't even know where that came from," James said with a shake of his head. "Whoever's coming up with these rumors is ridiculous."

"Fantastic," Hendrik said with a triumphant slap of his lap. "Now you'll not know which parts I made up and which ones are truly rumors. Perks of being a great storyteller."

"People are really talking about me that much in the City of Angels, though?" James asked with his brows pinched upwards. "How have you even been hearing all of this?"

"Katya hears it in radio frequencies and lets us all know," Hendrik said like it was obvious. "Did she not tell you?"

"She conveniently left that out," James said.

"Ah, well. Guess it doesn't matter too much if you're not going to go back, anyways."

"Uh huh," James said with a nod, diverting his attention to Sleepy in his lap, starting to pet her.

"Why did you even go to the City of Angels?" Malkiel asked, suspicion returning to his voice.

"To get supplies, mostly," James said. "We were able to get better maps with the modeling gig and I unironically did want a sword in the unfortunate event we run into any beasts in our journey through the ungoverned lands. The tournament seemed like the only option to getting one, since I didn't have anything of equal value to exchange." He briefly flicked his eyes to Elliot. "At least, not that I was willing to part with."

"Good lad," Hendrik said in approval.

"Where did you learn how to fight with a sword?" Malkiel continued to question.

"I think that's enough questions about talk about the city for now," Evaline cut in. "We get it. You don't have to tease or interrogate us anymore."

Hendrik innocently lifted his hands. "No judgement here," he said. "Just genuinely curious. And also mildly entertained by it all."

James flicked his eyes between Malkiel and Hendrik.

"My father served in the army when he was young, before he had me and my brother," James said, keeping consistent with the little details he'd told others. "He was the one who taught me how to fight."

Malkiel leaned in, looking like he didn't believe a word. It was hard to tell if it was because he was skeptical of everything James said, or that he could sometimes be able to detect lies. Fortunately, James was completely calm. These lies came easily to him, now.

"If you're such a good storyteller, why don't you tell us about them?" he asked. "We would all like to know so much more about you."

James raised a brow. "You care to hear about my family?" he asked, doubtful.

"Family. Friends. Life before coming here," Malkiel said with a nonchalant shrug. "What difference does it make?"

"Considering that, to me, it's my actual life and not just a story, I think it means more to me than just--"

"Is it your life?" he interrupted. "Because it sounds like you're throwing away your past life, and it's becoming just a story."

James raised his eyebrows slightly and held Malkiel's gaze for a moment before looking down to the ground.

"Harsh," James said. "Considering you know very little thus far."

"Then please," Malkiel said, voice wearing thin from impatience as he exaggerated a flourish of his hand. "Go on."

"Apologies if your tone makes me less than enthusiastic to share personal stories with you," James said. "Where would you like me to start? Birth? Conception?"

"You know what we should start?" Hendrik cut in quickly, clapping his hands together. "Gathering firewood to make the fire last all night. We don't want any more chilly nights, hm? Who wants to go get it?"

James got to his feet at the same time Malkiel did, and they both paused, staring at each other.

"Perfect, you both can go fetch some more, and Evaline and I can refill on water at the basin nearby," Hendrik said with a smug smile like this was all part of his plan.

James decided that he wasn't going to let their conflict get in the way of practical needs. He lifted Sleepy out of his arms and plopped her down besides Evaline, watching for a second as Sleepy immediately crawled into Evaline's lap. Then he turned to Elliot, grabbing his sword off the saddle before he started out of the cavern.

"Fine," Malkiel said as he turned away, but it sounded like he said it through his teeth.

Malkiel begrudgingly started to walk behind James, keeping his distance. James could hear Evaline and Hendrik talk in a hushed voice before they scurried off in the opposite direction.

James largely ignored Malkiel at first. They had to walk some distance from the cavern to get to an area that was more heavily occupied by plants and things that could be used as fire starters. James and Malkiel walked in silence, staying a few feet from each other until James slowed, approaching a dry, spangly bush. Suitable firewood.

He unsheathed his sword. It was a little undignified to use a sword like an axe, but it was easier this way. He slashed near the root.

"Is that how you learned how to use the sword?" Malkiel asked with an unnecessary hostile tone as he was kneeled over a smaller bush. "You swing at bushes?"

James sheathed his sword again with one quick, smooth movement. With one hand, he yanked up the now-loose branch, snapping it in half.

"That would be funny, wouldn't it," James said flatly.

"And deceiving," he said back in the same tone.

James squinted at him.

"Deceiving for who? The bush?" he asked as he cracked another part of the bush into pieces so that it was more manageable as firewood, and to carry.

"Everyone you've lied to thus far," Malkiel said as he started to pick up spare branches, twigs, and dried roots on the ground, glancing over his shoulder.

"You know, I don't know what you're hoping to accomplish by constantly antagonizing me," James said, bunching up the branches under one arm. "But I would think it'd get tiresome after a while."

"Like I said, until we get to the destination safely, you can't prove to me you're trustworthy," Malkiel said. "I'm sorry that I can't trust manipulative, fake liars."

"Is it because I have a time power?" James asked, yanking at another dry branch, snapping it off. "Is that it?"

"No," he said. "I don't have problems with other people with time powers."

"So like," James asked. "You're fine with Oliver."

Malkiel glanced up at him again. "Yes?"

James only hummed once, leaving it at that. He ripped another branch off of the dead bush.

"Why? Why is Oliver important?" he barked.

"I don't know, he just seems important to everyone around here," James said with a shrug. "Important because you like him, I guess."

"And is that why you stick with Evaline? She was important to you from the beginning?"

"Considering she was the first person to believe me," James said. "I'd say that's pretty important."

"Your standards are very low if that's all it takes to consider a person's importance," Malkiel muttered.

James couldn't help but laugh lowly. Not because Evaline was only important for that reason - the amusement had nothing to do with her. There was just something about Malkiel's comment that itched its way into him. He knew he had pretty low standards for people in general. Nowadays, it was great if people didn't want to kill, hurt, or capture him. He would say those were pretty low standards.

"Yeah," he said with laughter in his voice. "I guess so."

"So you admit it," Malkiel said with a bundle of twigs in his arms. "You accept that you have low standards."

"I'm just easy to please, I guess," James said casually. "If people treat me decently, that's good enough for me."

Malkiel sighed, facing him squarely. "Listen," he said. "If you're tired of me, then let's cut the bullshit. Either you're hiding something, or you are very fake - and I don't like either option. Everything you say is contradictory, or plain suspicious. What do you have to say about all this?"

James adjusted the now-sizeable collection of branches in his arms.

"I'd say it's not my job to make you like me," James said. "But I do want to earn your trust, though it seems impossible. I'll admit that I can be fake sometimes. But I think your suspicion might be blinding you from the moments where I'm actually being genuine."

"Tell me your motive, then," Malkiel said.

"My motive for... being fake?" James asked with a raised brow.

"For being fake. For lying. For hiding information."

"I am slow to trust by nature," James said. "And I don't expect people to show me the courtesy of giving me the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes, it's easier to say what will keep the peace than to rub against the grain. It's nothing personal. I just don't like opening up to just anybody."

Malkiel held his stare for a few moments before sighing. Not out of relief, but out of frustration.

"I don't either," he said. "But I don't take the easy route."

"I can tell," James said.

"I used to, you know," Malkiel continued, voice steely. "Take the easy route. Easily trust others. I'm sure you have your own reasons to not trust as easily either. But just because we share that, doesn't make you any more trustworthy."

"I don't expect it to," James said. "But it's nice to hear we share that understanding."

"I don't think you do. If I don't trust someone, I try to cut them off before they become a danger. You only do nothing."

"I don't believe in cutting people off just because we don't like each other," James said. "And personally, I don't mind you being around. At least, when you're not trying to belittle me."

"Big difference between cutting people off because you don't like them, and because they're untrustworthy," Malkiel continued, ignoring James's last sentiments. "You can still tolerate a person but still be wary of them."

“Yeah,” James said. “Like right now.”

Malkiel stared at him for a moment, but then silently turned away, continuing to pick up nearby fire starter material without saying another word.

James sighed and resumed his own work, and the two of them quietly picked away at bushes and other desert plants until they both had plenty of fuel between the two of them to keep the fire going. As the two of them got to their feet with twigs, leaves, and branches in their arms, James made brief eye contact with him.

The tension still hung in the air. Thick, and awkward.

James let out a sigh.

"Look," James said. "Malkiel. I know we've both got trust issues, and I don't expect that to be resolved by forced politeness. But I'm trying. I don't want to keep this up every time I see you. You don't have to like me, but at least, on my end, I still want to treat you with kindness and respect, whether or not you give it back to me in return. I'm sorry we had such a rough start. We don't have to be best friends. I'm just... doing the best I can."

Malkiel seemed to have the patience to listen to his spiel all the way through, and he didn't seem annoyed or hostile this time. He just seemed tired as he let out a deep sigh as well, eyes drifting back towards the cavern.

"I'm not your enemy, James," he said. "I never was. But I don't care if you see me that way. You're right that we're not friends, and hardly close to being friends since we don't know each other, but we can simply tolerate each other until we part ways."

"That's good enough for me," James said as he started walking, heading back towards the cavern.

"Sure," Malkiel replied without enthusiasm, following close behind him without another word.

The two of them walked back in silence, entering into the cavern with arms full of firewood. James saw Evaline and Hendrik were right where they'd left them by the fire, and Sleepy was still curled up in Evaline's lap, looking (as befitting of her name) to be asleep.

James dropped his stack of wood near the fire and went back to sit beside Evaline. Mal added his sticks to the pile and sat opposite them, brooding where he was before. Hendrik predictably started up conversation again, and the night passed by smoothly. In the shelter of the cavern, the cold air bit with less sting, and the fire flickered off the cavern walls, filling the space with light.

They took the shifts in turns, one by one staying up for an hour or two until the morning came. James only managed to sleep for about half the night anyway, but he was glad that Evaline was able to get more rest than their usual.

Malkiel seemed a little less prickly when they all said their goodbyes and parted ways, and James decided to take it as a small victory.

He knew not everyone would like him, but he was glad that at least, between him and Mal, they'd agreed on a ceasefire.

Evaline didn't particularly mind the meetup with Hendrik and Malkiel, but she found it to be a relief when she was traveling alone with James again. Maybe it was the routine, or maybe it was because she felt less uncertain and anxious when with him, but she found herself counting down the days for the trip.

There were two and a half weeks until they'd have to meet up with Katya and Tula - which she was dreading and not looking forward to, especially because James was too. After that, it was another two and a half weeks until they'd reach the final destination. Elias. And Evaline knew she wasn't looking forward to that, either.

But she found herself enjoying the present at the moment. They had about one more month together, and then they'd be thrown in a new environment. For now, though, being together was enough.

After a predictable day of traveling through the desert, night came and they were sitting together again, chatting.

"You know, the more I keep hearing about the lasting impression I left in the city of angels, the more I regret the whole tournament thing," James said with a sigh. "Though I really can't say I regret getting the sword. I'm glad I haven't had to use it much yet, but it's nice to have a weapon I know how to use."

"It happened, and there's not much we can do about it now," Evaline said with a small shrug. "I'm glad that you have it too."

"I didn't think the modeling think would come back to bite me either," James said with a faint laugh. "Vance must've used the photos for something public, I guess."

Evaline thought back to their photoshoot that they went through in a daze. She also thought nothing of it, and she only hoped that Hendrik was joking what he said that they were a "collectible." Although, part of her was too afraid to ask.

"I have no idea what they could be used for, or why," she said with a sigh. "Unless... it's because you have an impeccable jawline?"

"Please, don't start that again," James said with a shake of his head.

Evaline smirked and laughed through it. "I don't know which made you more popular: the tournament, or the photoshoot. Seems that we failed the premise of keeping a low profile."

"Failed miserably," James echoed with a sigh, but he had a slight smile. It faded slowly as he looked out into the desert night.

"But, I'm glad we met up with them," James said. "I think... Malkiel and I came to an agreement."

"An agreement?" Evaline echoed, interest piqued. "What sort of agreement?"

"To tolerate each other," James said, tilting his head towards her as he met her eyes for just a moment. "It's better than constantly glaring at each other, so I'll take it."

"Ah," she said quietly. "I suppose that's a step up. And progress, since it's Malkiel." She paused for a moment, thinking. "And all the glaring and hostility from him is because he thinks you're a spy?"

"I think that's the main reason," James said. "He's still convinced I'm lying and hiding things and being fake either way, so I don't think there's much I can do about that."

"Did you ever find out why he thinks that?" she asked.

"He's mentioned breathing patterns," James said.

"And... that's it?"

James shrugged. "He says the things I say sound contradictory?" he said.

Evaline sighed. These were all vague answers, and even James didn't know if he knew the exact reason either.

"It's possible he just doesn't like you because of your close association with me," she said lowly. "But he'd never admit that."

"He said he doesn't have issues with other time powered people," James said. "It's just me. And you."

Evaline was quiet for a moment as she collected her thoughts, tilting her head up to peer at the night sky. She often liked to gaze at the small star that James had jokingly said was Nye all those months ago.

"I've known Malkiel for a while," she said. "He has always had this complex to bring about big change in a way he thinks is the most fair and righteous. I think he's lost sight of his vision if his paranoia has enabled him to think that you're a risk to that."

James hummed softly.

"That's... sad," James said quietly.

"But he hasn't always been that way," she continued, finding train of thought she didn't want to bring up rise to the surface anyways. "I know he grew up in the countryside. I don't think he was very socialized, but he was surprisingly trusting. Maybe a little too trusting. But... not anymore."

"Sounds familiar," James commented softly. "By countryside, do you mean a place like Terra, but in the sectors?"

Evaline glanced at James after his first comment, but decided to let it slide.

"I've never been there, so I'm not sure," she said. "But I think it's similar, minus the emphasis on farming. It's more sprawled and out of touch from the other sectors. I don't know. He never really told me much about it."

James nodded.

"It's a shame we're only tolerating one another," James said. "We might have more in common than we think. It'd be nice to hear about what that was like."

"You really think you'd get along with him?" she asked, pleasantly surprised with the turn of this conversation.

"I don't know, we were able to talk a little when we were off alone," James said. "It's just a feeling, really. My intuition could be wrong."

Evaline slowly nodded. James said that, but she couldn't really imagine the two of them happily chatting away.

"Well, it's ironic that he harps on you for being fake," she said. "I've never seen it myself, but I know he's warmer and more chatty whenever I'm not around. But... I don't know, maybe you could connect. He seems to be friends with Mel and Hendrik, too."

James was quiet for a moment and he nodded slowly in thought.

"Maybe," he said. "I think I'm just going to have to wait and see. I'm content with at least this, for now."

"Yeah," she said softly, pausing for a moment.

There were layers to all this that she wasn't sure she wanted to bring up, especially because it didn't haunt her as much as it used to. But... she did tell James that she would be willing to share everything.

"I haven't explicitly said it before," she said slowly, looking over to gauge his reaction. "But I did know Malkiel, Hendrik, and Tula before they were in the council. It's not to say we were in the same friend group, or friends at all, but... there is some shared history."

James didn't look surprised as he glanced over at her.

"I'd figured that was probably the case," James said.

"Do you want to know?" she asked. "About the shared history? It's nothing particularly exciting, but... I could share it if you want."

"Yeah," James said with a small, assuring smile. "I'd like to hear about how you guys know each other."

"Well..." She took a deep breath as she brought her knees closer to her chest to perch her folded arms on top, looking out over the horizon like the words were there for her to grab. "We all met and survived the war. It's outdated terminology now, but it was called The Order. And we were all a part of it. We mostly passed each other, or worked together."

"So, you were mainly coworkers," James concluded.

"It was mostly like that for Hendrik and Tula," she continued. "Hendrik warded off beasts, and even tamed some of them for the arsenal. I'm pretty sure that was where he got Bongo. I passed him a lot since he was always outside. I sometimes gave him a few orders, too. But it would be a stretch to call ourselves friends back then."

"Would you consider yourself friends with him now?" James asked.

Evaline paused, only feeling a little guilty afterwards that she had to think about this one.

"I'd say so," she said. "I think he still sees me as an authority figure, but his demeanor is more casual and friendly around me now."

"He does still call you 'boss,' most of the time," James commented.

"I'm pretty sure that's just a nickname that stuck from the war," she said. "I... think."

"There could be a lot worse nicknames," James said. "At least he calls you boss and not baby man."

Evaline huffed through her nose in amusement. "Yeah. I mean, the nicknames used to be more demeaning. He only changed it to 'boss' after he was harped at. It's all in the past now, though - except his habit to give everyone not-so-endearing nicknames."

"Lately he's been calling me Jamie instead," James said. "I feel like that's more endearing. An improvement, for sure."

Evaline glanced over with the beginnings of a smirk. "You think that's endearing, Jamie?"

James waved her off dismissively.

"No, no, it's different coming from you," he said with a growing smirk of his own.

"I think I'll not call you by the same endearing nickname that Hendrik does."

"Just don't call me 'thumbs' in front of the others," James said. "I don't think I'd hear the end of it. Imagine them hearing it without context."

Evaline lightly laughed, shaking her head. "I don't even want to know the type of questions he or Mel would ask afterwards," she said.

"Neither do I," James said with a little laugh, and then he looked over to her. "But -- so, you worked with Tula, Hendrik, and Malkiel. Is that all?"

"From the people you know, yes," she said. "There were many people. You wouldn't know them, though."

"I don't need to know them for you to tell me about them, you know," James said. "If you think they're worth noting."

She glanced over at him again, noticing how she was idly drawing little circles with her forefinger on her arm. "How do you define 'worth nothing'?" she asked.

James shrugged.

"If you want to talk about them?" James said. "Or if they were a significant part of your life at the time, I guess. Or even if they just left a lasting impression. I don't know."

Evaline paused again, sifting through the faces in her head. The word 'significant' hung in the space of her mind, and she had to ask herself what that really meant for her. What was significant to her back then wasn't so significant to her now.

"To be honest..." she began more quietly after a long pause had drawn out. "I don't really like that chapter of my life. It's not that I'm repressing it because I know a war's effort should be 'significant' - but the person I was back then is hardly the person I am now. I don't see my time there to be significant to me now."

"Maybe significant isn't the right word to use," James hummed. "Really all I'm trying to say is I want to know what happened. We were both different people five years ago, never mind six years, seven years, and further back. I expect as much. I just want to know because it's a part of your history. I think you can appreciate someone more for who they've become when you know the past from which they came."

"I guess so," she said softly, tensing up. "It's just - it's an ugly stain of my past. I can't think of a single story that would result in you appreciate me more."

"That's not the only reason to share," James said. "And also, you can't assume for me what my reaction will be. But if it's painful to talk about, I'm not going to force it out of you. I know how difficult it can be to talk about things in the past that hurt - especially when you don't like who you used to be back then."

"That's the thing," Evaline said with a weak laugh. "It should be difficult, but it's not. I can talk about it, I just choose not to. Maybe it's shame. I don't know."

"Do you want to just... try? Let it out?" James asked.

"I... sure. I can try doing that."

She took a deep breath, thinking. There were so many names and faces, and many of them were so trivial, it was hardly worth talking about. But she didn't even know where to start.

"How, um... where should I start?" she asked with another faint, nervous laugh. She didn't even know why she asked that since James didn't really know anything.

"When the Order was... formed?" James suggested, sounding unsure of the way he'd worded it.

"I don't know how long exactly the rebellion group has been around, but when I joined it, it was fairly small. Several dozen people, at most," she answered. "It grew almost exponentially afterwards, and it was rebranded to The Order afterwards."

"How long were you in The Order?" James asked.

"Not long," she said. "Three, four years before it collapsed."

"And it collapsed... when the war ended? Or...?"

"Yes," Evaline answered. "It's no longer around now. At least, that I'm aware of."

"Was everyone who's in the council now once in The Order?" James asked.

She shook her head. "No. It's just Hendrik, Tula, Malkiel, and myself. No one else has any connections to the war."

"So... how did Mel, Alistair, and the others get involved?" James asked.

Evaline took another deep breath. Now they were talking about things that were more difficult to talk about, especially because this all happened after the war, and the history between the others were greater.

"Mel helped me found the council and was the second person in the council, after me," she said. "Because, like I said, it was all a sham - but she didn't know that, and she still doesn't. Alistair was recruited by Oliver, I think just to toy with me. I don't know. It's all a mess I've managed by myself for all these years."

"And Tula, Hendrik, and Malkiel," James said slowly. "Were you the one who recruited them?"

Evaline let out another faint laugh. "You could say that. But we actually all escaped together. I guess that was what prompted the invitation afterwards."

"Ah," James said. "Makes sense." He paused. "What about Katya and Zameer?"

"I actually don't really know their stories," Evaline said. "Tula invited Katya, who I assumed was already living in the ungoverned lands. I think Zameer was just looking for opportunity."

"Were Tula and Mal much different back then?" James asked. "I know you said Mal's changed a bit. Less trusting, now."

"He was," she said, pausing as she felt the apprehension build, but she forced it out of herself anyways. "It may not surprise you to find out that I played a big part of why he's changed and become less trusting."

"That seemed to be his implication," James said, pausing only for a moment. "What happened between you two?"

Evaline forced herself to relax her body when she felt it tense so much, it started to become painful. Of all the things that had happened... this was what brought the most shame.

"Malkiel was actually one of the first people I met there," she began, knowing that he needed the context before she could outright answer that question. "We were friends. Or at least, he seemed to trust me, even though I was far from being kind. For the first six months or so that I was there, I trained with him and two others. You could say the four of us were friends... back then. But then trust was broken, and he's been that way to me ever since. I don't blame him."

James was quiet for a moment, letting her words hang in the air.

"How was the trust broken?" he asked softly.

Evaline took another deep breath. She again couldn't explain that with even more context.

"The other two people we were friends with were named Liveah and Leonel," she said. "They were brother and sister. The four of us connected because we were roughly the same age. We were so young... but all of us were so different. I don't really know why they even tolerated me. I was so mean. I was cruel, James. You want to know how the trust was broken - and it's because Liveah and Leonel told me they were going to run away, and I stopped them. I stopped them because they were traitors in my eyes back then, and all traitors deserved death. And after that, Malkiel has never stopped hating me. But I don't blame him."

The words came out all at once, and Evaline felt her arms tensing up some more, but it wasn't out of fear. It was mostly anger directed towards herself - because even now, she hardly felt the grief or loss.

James quietly put his arm around her shoulders. He was quiet for a few long seconds. They dragged on, and the silence hung heavily around them until James broke it with his quiet voice.

"What's going through your head right now?" he asked.

"This should be 'significant,' like you said," Evaline said with a heavy voice, staring intensely at the view in front of her, feeling numb. "But even now, it's not. And that's probably another reason why Malkiel dislikes me so much. Because I'm indifferent about it, even when I shouldn't be."

A second or two passed, and James didn't immediately answer, so Evaline let out a desperate scoff, digging her fingernails into her sleeves.

"I told you that nothing I did back then will result in you appreciating me more," she said thinly. "I don't even recognize the person I was back then, so it's okay. You can say it. I was a monster."

"It sounds like you still carry a lot of shame about that time in your life," James said quietly. "I won't tell you that what you did wasn't wrong, but I'm glad that you came to a point where you recognized it was."

He paused, but not long enough for her to respond.

"Have you forgiven yourself?" James asked, his voice sober. "For Liveah and Leonel. Or anything else from that time?"

It wasn't that cut-and-dry.

"It seems that I go through so many drastic changes in my life," Evaline said lowly. "There was the Evaline before becoming an adult. The Evaline who left home to join a war she didn't care about. The Evaline who went to Nye. The Evaline who ran away and continued to deceive in other ways. And then there's me, whatever this is now. I can't forgive myself if the person I'm forgiving isn't me."

James looked over at her, still with his arm over her shoulders.

"If you still carry with you the things you've done in your past, I don't think it's possible to say that you're completely removed from them, whether you were a different person or not," James said slowly. "Especially if those things are still affecting your present. You can be different, but the person you used to be was still you. That doesn't make it a completely different person who did those things."

"What do you want me to say, James?" she asked, voice exasperated as she glanced over.

"I'm not trying to make you say anything," James said steadily. "I'm just worried that you're separating yourself from the events to the point where you won't even associate yourself with them personally."

"How is that any different than you?" Evaline continued to blurt out, desperation taking over. "Don't you do the same?"

"I often disassociate when things become too overwhelming for me," James said. "But I don't look at my past self and absolve myself of the responsibility of my past actions. That said -- I don't really want to compare--"

"That's the difference," Evaline interrupted. "You choose to disassociate. I don't want to. It just happens. I have to do it, and it happens over long periods of time."

"And I know that complicates things," James said, still keeping his tone both gentle and steady. "I know it makes things difficult. But I think an important part of the process of healing and growing is recognizing our past actions and taking responsibility and ownership of them. If you don't feel the weight of your own actions, I can only see that continuing to be a hindrance in the future to making more thoughtful, healthy, and good decisions."

While James talked, Evaline felt the familiar hostility claw its way out from her previous selves, filling up the familiar space in the hole of her chest. She thought that she was over being mean and pushing James away, but she was realizing that it was only hibernating.

"That's funny," she said with a faint mirthless laugh, the edges of a glare peeking over her eyes. "You can't possibly give me advice on how to forgive myself if you can't do it yourself. I know we're both hypocrites, but I refuse to listen to advice from someone whose biggest flaw is the very thing they're giving advice about."

James slowly pulled his arm away, turning his body to face her more directly. He didn't look angry, and he didn't even really look hurt. But he looked deeply focused, with his eyebrows drawn together as he looked at her.

"Just because I'm not good at it either doesn't make it any less true," James said. "And I'm not just talking about self-forgiveness. I'm talking--"

"So you admit it?" Evaline cut in again. "That you're a hypocrite?"

"I know I'm a hypocrite," James said. "And I am actively trying very hard not to be one in the weak way that I can, which is all I have to offer right now. But this isn't about me. I'm talking about--"

"I just don't understand how you can tell me all these things if you don't know anything about self-forgiveness," she continued, mocking the words self-forgiveness.

"I'm talking about you needing to take responsibility for the things you've done in your past so you can actually move past them instead of just removing yourself from the situation," James said quickly, like he was afraid she'd cut him off again.

"I have moved past them," she said bitterly, knowing she was glaring at him at this point. "What makes you think I haven't?"

"I had to prod this information out of you," James said. "And I'm glad that you told me about it. But what I'm--"

"James," Evaline interrupted once more, feeling her patience grow thin. "Stop holding back on me. Be honest. I'm a terrible person. Just say it."

"I'm trying to be, but you won't let me finish a sentence," James said, meeting her eyes. "Do you want to hear what I have to say?"

"I'm sick of political answers," she said cooly. "Don't hide behind sentimental words. Just tell me what you're really thinking."

James stared at her for a moment, and she found that his face was hard to read. She wasn't sure if he was concerned, if he was studying her, or if he was just thinking hard about what he was about to say.

"Honestly," James said, emphasizing the word. "I am being honest. I don't think you are a terrible person. What you did to Leonel and Liveah was wrong, and inexcusable, but if I--"

"I'm so sorry for interrupting again," Evaline cut in again, already feeling herself checking out from this conversation. "But if you've assumed that what I did to them was an isolated incident, you're wrong. You hate yourself for indirectly tying the noose. But guess what, James? I don't hate myself, and I'm the one who pulled the trigger on so many people. So, now you know the truth. Do you still think I'm not a terrible person?"

"If that is the criteria, then we are both terrible people," James said. "Because I too, have killed people with my own hands. And don't you dare tell me that goblins aren't real people."

Evaline didn't even know how to immediately react. Was she supposed to be shocked? Or laugh because she still wasn't convinced that the green-skinned creatures who could hardly speak the same language were considered to be on-par to humans? They were hardly comparable. But she was far too tired to argue that.

"I don't know what you want me to say, James," she said lowly as she turned away, suddenly wanting to answer to the call of sleep.

"It's not about what I want you to say," James said. "It..."

She heard him deeply sigh.

"Evaline, I've taken the lives of goblins and humans, both directly and indirectly. And I know I can't tell you step-by-step how to forgive yourself," James said, sounding tired, but earnest and sincere. "If you don't have anything to say, then don't make something up for me. I'm just trying to talk things out openly and honestly, even when it's hard. That's all I'm trying to do."

He paused briefly, letting out another quiet sigh.

"I know I can't change your mind, and I know neither of us can change our pasts. I don't want to bond over past regret and shame, but I do know the numbing indifference that takes hold when you take a life. I don't know if that's what you're feeling, or if it's something different. But it took me years to force myself to feel it. Years to come to terms with it. And still, it's taking years to learn how to move on. I won't force you forward in wherever you're at in your journey. I just... I'm trying to help in the only way I know how. I'm sorry if it's felt otherwise."

Evaline was far too tired to interrupt or even respond right away. Talking about all of this and what she should have felt made her return to the feeling of numb indifference. She didn't care to return to it, or move past it.

She silently began to brush off the ground next to her, setting a part of the blanket down so the sand wouldn't get under her clothes.

"How about this," she said in a monotone voice as she laid down and readjusted the blanket. "I'll forgive myself after you fully forgive yourself. Just let me know if that ever happens."

James was quiet for a moment.

"Is that really how you want to end the night?" James asked, his voice quiet. He sounded sad.

Evaline had to bite back the words she wanted to say. It felt so natural, almost like instinct to push him away, and make him like her less.

"No," she said quietly.

"Me neither," he said.

Several seconds dragged on, and Evaline was starting to feel the heavy pit of shame and regret fall in her stomach. She had messed this up. Again. She had hurt him. Again.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly again, drawing her brows together as she tensed up, but otherwise didn't move.

There was a small pause, but James spoke up.

"I forgive you," he said, and his voice was somehow, after all of that, full of kindness.

"Why?" she found herself spitting out desperately. "Why do you forgive so easily?"

"Because I believe you're worth a second chance. And a third, and a fourth. And many more," James said. "Sometimes you lash out when you get upset. I don't think that means I should be angry at you forever. And I choose to believe your apology is sincere, so that we can move on to having a real conversation."

Evaline found tears to be stinging her eyes as she curled up tighter into herself, not knowing what to do with his words.

Why did he keep coming back? Why did he keep forgiving her? Why did he keep giving her second chances, even though she had snuffed every single one of them?

She heard James's feet shuffle against the ground, and she could see him crawl up next to her, sitting at her side. He reached out and set his hand on her shoulder lightly.

"I'm not giving up on you, Evaline," James said. "We can disagree on things, and argue. And I'm positive - because we're people - that we'll argue more. But I don't want to end our arguments with hurtful words and anger and pain stewing in our hearts. I want to talk about it. Even if it's hard."

The thoughts kept echoing in her head: You don't deserve James. You know he's so much better than you ever will be. He'll see who you truly are and will leave you someday. But you didn't deserve him anyways.

Evaline felt the tears escape, bitterly running down her cheek as she began to silently sob, hiding her face in the blanket.

"I'm not scared to learn more about you," James said. "The ugly, the undignifying, the unhonorable. I'm more scared of you never telling me at all. Because believe it or not, I really do appreciate how far you've come. From the Evaline who ran off to join a war she didn't care about, to the Eve I know today. And I look forward to discovering more. Not because I think it'll all be great, but because it's you. And you don't scare me. You won't scare me off. I mean it when I say I'm in it for the hard stuff too. I won't leave just because it gets hard."

Evaline felt his words stab at her heart, and she didn't even know what to do with it. She didn't know whether this should only reaffirm her belief that she didn't deserve James, or whether it was supposed to help her believe that she did deserve him.

At this point, she just knew that she was crying curled up in a fetal position, sobbing through the blankets and not knowing what she was supposed to be feeling or thinking. James gently rubbed her shoulder with his thumb.

"I don't deserve you," she whimpered, voice muffled.

"I don't think you know what you deserve," James said softly. "You deserve love. And love doesn't leave when it gets hard. Love doesn't leave when you see the worst in someone. Love stays. Everyone has flaws. I will still love you when we discover them together."

This was becoming too overwhelming. She just wanted to hide. She didn't know what to say, and she hated that she had to fight with her brain to believe that James meant every word. But she did. She did believe him.

It was just hard for her to believe that she deserved love, too.

Evaline continued to cry softly, sniffing and hiding her head in the blankets as James continued to sit next to her, his thumb rhythmically going in little circles on her shoulder. She felt so small and pathetic that she could handle violent, traumatic events, but she couldn't handle even a pinch of love. It always sent her over the edge until she spiraled enough for it to cripple her. That was just it, wasn't it? This had always been her weakness.

She didn't know how much time had passed as she continued to cry in shame, but she felt the tears subside, only sniffing with the dried trail of tears caked onto her face. She didn't quite have the courage to peek her head out yet, though.

So Evaline laid there for more minutes on end, but yet James's presence was still next to her, his hand loyally on her shoulder. The tempting tug of sleep pulled on her eyelids, and she felt them getting heavier and heavier.

Sleep felt like an escape from the discomfort she was feeling.

"Eve."

The simple word was enough to slowly bring Evaline back to the present. She sharply inhaled as she unfolded her stiff arms across her face, feeling James's touch on her shoulder. She hesitated, but then peeked out over the blankets to see James looking down at her with a small, tired smile.

She had almost forgotten their tense conversation last night, and there wasn't really an end to it since she fell asleep. Evaline felt her heart sink, falling into a pool of guilt.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as she slowly began to sit up straight, figuring he only woke her up because it was his turn to sleep.

"What for?" James asked softly as he pulled his hand away. "I didn't mind staying up first. It's okay."

Evaline tilted her head down, not able to make eye contact from the shame. It always felt like she was ruining any chances of constructive conversation. She was always pushing him down, like a burden on his back that he refused to give up.

"You can..." She swallowed. "You can sleep. If you want. I'm sorry for not asking first."

"Don't worry about it," James said. "Do you want to talk? I can stay up a little more if you want to."

"No," Evaline said quickly as she wiped the remnants of dried tears off her eyes, glancing at him for half a second. "No, don't let me take up your sleep. You should -- you should sleep."

James looked at her with sleepy eyes, and for a moment it seemed like he was going to argue, but then he nodded.

"Okay," he said quietly. "But can we talk tomorrow? After I wake up?"

Evaline nodded, a litle too eagerly. She started to inch away, giving him plenty of space. She didn't even know if he wanted her nearby. She just assumed he'd want it.

"Okay," she said softly as she crawled.

James slowly got up and grabbed his own blanket, and he ended up walking over to her before lying down only a foot away. From how tired he looked, she wouldn't have been surprised if he'd let her sleep more than usual - but it was hard to tell when the sky was still dark.

But if he did, that only spurred more guilt. Evaline disliked that she still felt like she had to earn his love, but at least she recognized that that wasn't how James wanted it to be. That didn't stop the intrusive thoughts from coming, though.

Evaline watched him stir in his sleep for a little while before he settled into a comfortable sleeping position and laid still. Replaying the events last night in her head made her feel like a child, and she wished things could be different. If only she could be different.

She was different, though, compared to who she was before. And somehow, James had managed to love her old self, as well as her current self. This thought sent her down the rabbit hole of what he was trying to tell her before she shut down.

There was a lot of introspection and self-reflecting she had to do. She just needed time.

After what seemed like a few hours with just barely the beginnings of dawn in the sky, James suddenly jolted awake.

He didn't sit up straight at first, but she could tell he'd woken up when his arms shot out and then wrapped around his sides. His eyes were wide open, staring blankly out into the darkness, and she could hear his faint, shuddered breath.

Evaline let a long pause draw out, surprised by the sudden movements, but dreading what this could mean. He only ever woke up like that whenever he had a nightmare.

"James?" she called quietly.

She could hear James breathe shakily, but a bit louder as he attempted to take in a deep breath.

"Yeah," he said breathily, still holding himself as he laid on the ground with his blanket half-covering him, since he'd thrown it partially off when he'd shot his arms out.

"Did you have another dream?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, still sounding like he was out of breath.

Evaline felt a pang of sadness pull her heart. She hated seeing James suffer like this. She wished she could take this ability away so he could sleep without worries about potential nightmares.

"Do you need a few minutes?" she asked gently.

James nodded slowly, closing his eyes as he took in another deep breath. It sounded pained.

"Okay," she said softly as she inched closer to him, but didn't reach out to touch him. "I'm here if you need me."

James didn't seem very responsive. He seemed to hug himself tighter, curling his legs up as he continued to stare out into the night with unfocused, glazed eyes. His breathing was inconsistent for a while, and there were a few moments where it sounded like he was on the verge of hyperventilating, but he managed to push it down. A few long minutes passed before it sounded like he had any real control, and was finally taking measured breaths.

He was still curled up, though, and when she took a closer look at his hands that were hooked around his arms, she could see that he was holding himself with what looked like a death grip.

"It still hurts," he finally rasped out. "I know it's not real. I-- I know it's not real. It just feels real."

Evaline felt her heart sink lower in her chest as she sat beside him, finding herself unsure if she should reach out to comfort him without prompt. She decided to settle on speaking through it inside.

"I'm sorry you felt pain in your dream," she whispered. "Do you still feel it?"

James nodded slightly, his eyebrows pinching together tightly.

"I think my brain is broken," he said under his breath as he pinched his eyes shut. "It shouldn't -- I shouldn't feel it."

Evaline was quiet for a moment as she peered down at him with an aching sadness tightening her chest.

"Would it help if I held you for a little bit?" she asked quietly.

James took in a sharp breath before nodding again. Slowly, he pried his fingers off of his arms, and she could see how stiff he was as he still held his arms around himself.

Evaline started slowly, reaching out her hand to gently place it over his, hoping that even a small touch would help ground him back to reality.

"I'm here for you, James," she said softly.

James slowly uncurled his fingers and held her hand in return. When he did, he held it firmly, and his hands felt clammy.

He didn't open his eyes to look at her. It seemed like he was still just focusing on his breathing, which was becoming more erratic again.

Evaline held his hand securely and steadily, not moving it despite the tension and the sweat building up. It pained her to see him like this - like he was having a panic attack. She wished there was something more she could do.

She sat down flat with her legs extended, and with her free hand, Evaline slowly and gently scooped his head up and then inched towards him so that she could set his head on her lap. When she did so, she brushed back his hairs sticking to his forehead drenched with sweat, letting the cool air of the night dry his skin.

"I'm here," she said again, voice soft and welcoming as she squeezed his free hand. "I have you."

Another few minutes passed like this until James finally spoke again. His voice sounded hoarse, and exhausted.

"It was one of your memories," he said, barely audible. "The beast. That found you."

It was hard to tell for certain which memory James could be referencing, but Evaline didn't want to pry it out of him. It sounded like the memory was from a time she had ventured into the ungoverned lands by herself, and if she went back in time, it was out of survival. It couldn't have been easy for James to see too.

She continued to brush his hair back, looking down at him with her brows drawn together in concern and empathy.

"I'm okay. It didn't find me. I'm fine," she said as calmly as she could.

"I could run fast enough," he said, his breath hitching, and then next words coming out like a wheeze. "It was too fast for me. I was going to die. I should've died."

Evaline continued to stroke his hair back, quiet. She wasn't sure what to make of his words, and she was too afraid to ask questions in fear that it would pain him further.

"I could feel it again," he said, his voice still thin and pained. "Its claws... piercing through me. I shouldn't be able to feel it anymore. I can't even feel anything..."

He took in a sudden shuddered breath, and as she looked down she could see his eyes welling with tears.

"It's okay to cry," she said quietly. "It's okay to be scared. It was scary. I know."

As if her words had given him permission, his lower lip trembled, and his tears started falling down his face. She heard him whimper, and then he softly began to cry.

"I have you," Evaline whispered as she wiped away a stubborn tear pooling on his cheek. "You're safe here now with me."

James continued to cry, and he still held her hand, pulling it close to his face as he curled up in her lap.

As James wept on her lap, Evaline continued to wordlessly support him, letting him cry it out. She didn't want to overwhelm him, and she wanted him to be the one to speak if or when he was ready. She just wanted to be there for him and lift him up when he was feeling stuck or trapped.

She knew that James was often stuck in his own thoughts and feelings. Maybe he just needed a distraction. A story to listen to.

"I know you said that you hold many regrets over happened at the City of Angels, but at the end of the day, I think it made our relationship stronger," she started softly, back to brushing his hair back with a steady rhythm as the words started to spill out. "I was impressed when you were able to bargain for the items we needed, and even more impressed when we were at the tavern. I didn't like the idea of playing in front of others at first, but with you, I didn't mind it."

"At the end of the day, I found myself being more attracted to what we once had, but I kept pushing it down. But it replayed in my head, you know. From the photoshoot we had to do together, to the tournament where I could only cheer you on from the distance. I was so happy and relieved that you were okay, and it felt odd when you returned so we could go somewhere quieter. Like I was the only one who knew the secret of the real you, and I'm not talking about Nye, or your background."

"Of all the people who cheered you on that day, I knew that you disliked fans and loud noises, and all you want to truly do is read, and spend time with Elliot, and farm, and enjoy nature. I knew the real you that no one else knew, and even now, I think that's a shame. Because the tournament 'Matt' is only a false image of you, and is nowhere near the kind, patient, and gentle James that I've grown to love."

"And I think it wasn't until we went somewhere quieter that I realized I couldn't forever repress my love for you. Even if you're a different person, and even if your experiences that make you you continually haunt you, I want you to know that you have at least one fan out there who adores you for you, even if you don't like yourself. And the fan is right here in front of you."

She heard James sniff, and she realized, once she stopped talking, that he was finally breathing at a normal, steady rate, and he'd stopped crying.

"Thank you, Eve," he said quietly.

"I'm not as good at storytelling as you," Evaline said with a small smile. "But I thought you should know all that."

James slowly loosened his grip on her hand, but he didn't let go.

"You're the only fan I care about," he said softly.

"Then I guess that makes me the luckiest girl on Earth," she said with the lingering smile, lifting up their interlaced hands to her lips for a gentle kiss on the back of James's palm.

James let out a puff of air through his nose.

"I'm the one who feels lucky," he said, shifting his shoulders and turning his head to look up at her as his head laid in her lap. "Thank you for sitting with me."

Evaline offered a wistful smile, slowly setting their hands back down on his chest, but not letting his hand go just yet.

"It feels selfish to keep you to myself," she said. "I don't want to be your only fan by default just because I know the true you. I want you to have other friends and people you care about. It seems you're on the path towards that already, but I just want you to know that I support it. Because I want you to not only care about me, but others, too. And they'd care about you too."

James looked up at her with a softness in his eyes, even though his face was still creased with worry, and tears had crusted on his cheeks.

"Do you think... they'd really care?" he asked in whisper. "Would they even believe me?"

"It takes time to build trust and friendship," she said soothingly as she began to wipe away the dried goop on his face with her spare hand. "But even with a short time frame, Mel cared, and she believed you. Whenever you think you're ready for anyone else to know, I'd be happy to support you - because I want this for you, too."

"Do you think... if you and Mel believed me..." James said slowly. "Would Alistair? Or Elise?"

"I think they would, especially if Mel and I support you," Evaline said with a little smile.

"I'm just afraid that they'd write me off as insane," James said quietly.

"I thought the same thing when I first met you in Nye," she said delicately. "But you believed me, because you trusted me. And I'm sure they would too. You don't have to rush it."

"I know," James said, sniffing again. "I'm just afraid... that I'd spend all this time getting to know them, and then when I finally tell them... they'd decide they don't like me anymore."

"Luckily for you, Alistair and Elise are loyal and would not just 'decide' to not like someone because of a bizarre confession," she said as she gave his hand another gentle squeeze. "If the moment feels right, I don't think it would be bad to tell them. You just have to feel like you're ready to do so."

James stared up at her, and it looked like a bout of confusion passed over his face as he flicked his eyes to the side.

"Wait... you're serious?" he asked. "You really don't think it'd be a bad idea?"

Evaline took a deep breath, still offering the faint smile to help soften her thoughts and words.

"I'm just thinking ahead," she said. "I don't know what our future will hold, especially if we don't return to the safe zone. But if we're both in this for the long haul, I do want you to make deep, meaningful connections with other people too. I wouldn't want your future to revolve around me... And I already trust Alistair and Elise, so I know they can be trusted with this information, if you wanted to share."

"Right," James said softly. "Thinking ahead..."

He took in a deep breath, and he started to sit up, looking stiff as turned to face her, scooting so that he was sitting right next to her.

"I'll think about it," he said. "If the time feels right."

"And that's perfectly happy with that," Evaline said, then paused. "I'll be up for the rest of the night if you wanted to talk through those thoughts, or any other thoughts keeping you up, if you want."

James let out a long sigh, looking down into his lap.

"I just don't know if I know how to talk about it," he said. "The... the dream, I mean. It -- it reminded me of, of what happened in Nye, in the jungle. I don't know. Talking about it just feels like I'm reliving it again. I don't know if I can handle that."

"If it hurts too much, let's not talk about it," Evaline said as she reached out to place her hand over his again. "I look forward to the day where talking about your past doesn't result in you reliving the pain, but until then, I'm perfectly happy with what I already know. It's enough. You're enough."

James bowed his head, holding her hand in return.

"I wish it wasn't this hard," he said. "But thank you... for waiting."

Evaline squeezed his hand again, the familiar feeling of appreciating James for who he was filling her chest again, and emptying all of the aged hostility and guilt that once filled the space.

"And thank you for waiting and being patient for me, too," she said softly. "I know I was being stubborn last night. But I think... I think we can wait for each other."

"I'm willing to wait," James said, squeezing her hand. "I'm sorry if I pushed you too much."

"No. No, I needed the push," she said quickly. "You were right about everything. I just didn't want to face it, so I pushed you back, farther than I should. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. You deserve better."

"I forgive you," James said. "I've noticed you tend to do that. Pushing people away when you don't want to face something. I thought pushing might help. But I also realized that maybe you didn't know... what I told you after. I think it's a lot harder to receive any sort of criticism if you don't know the other person is actually for you. I'm sorry for doing this whole thing backwards. I really did mean it, Eve. Everything I said."

Evaline knew that James liked to apologize for every small inconvenience, but she didn't want to harp him on that, because it was just a part of who he was. But she wished he could understand that he shouldn't be sorry. He had been nothing less than a supportive and loving figure in her life, and she just had to learn how to accept that.

"I know," she said softly, eyes transfixed on their hands. "I know you did. You always mean what you say. That's why your words mean so much to me."

"I'm trying my best to prove them, too," James said. "Not just in word, but in action too."

"You don't need to," she said quickly. "You don't need to prove yourself. You already have."

"I just want you to know without a doubt how much I care about you," James said, almost desperately. "I know it won't fix everything but I just -- I want--"

"I know," Evaline found herself cutting in with a shaky voice. "I know you do. I've never doubted that, and I know you know that I care about you too. It's just... I don't really..."

She swallowed dryly, not sure where these sentences were going.

"I need to accept that you care," she finished quietly. "It's taking longer than it should, but... I'm trying."

James squeezed her hand again, and reached over to hold her hand between both of his.

"And that's all you can do," he said gently. "That's enough. I'm so proud of you for trying."

Evaline looked down and away, having to fight the feeling of numbness, but at the same time, feeling the tiny pricks of warmness enter her heart.

"You know," James said softly. "You don't have to put a timeline on this. There is no should. I don't like that word. Not for this. You get to heal in your own timing, and it doesn't have to look like anyone else. And that is more than okay."

"I know you're trying so hard to help me understand how you feel about me," she began, trying to steady her voice. "And I recognize it. I do. And you're helping. You really are. I wish I can believe it, I wish I can accept love, but I have to learn how. And I wish I can instantly change for you, especially since you're trying so hard... But I'm trying so hard too. I wish it were enough. I wish I could be better. I just don't know how to be better for you, right now."

James lifted their hands up between them, still holding her hand firmly.

"Eve, the last thing I expect from you is that you'd magically transform into a completely different person in an instant. Life doesn't work that way, and people change slowly, over time. To hear that you're trying your best makes me more than happy for you, but I don't want you to feel all of this pressure to be better for me. I want you to learn how to accept love for you. Because you deserve it. So don't worry about being 'better' or anything like that. Just take it day by day, moment by moment. Slowly making those decisions in your heart and your mind to believe it, even if you don't just yet. It really can be that simple. It really is enough."

Evaline was quiet as she let a drawn-out pause fill the air between them, letting his words slowly seep in. Words of affirmation often did that: seep in slowly, rather than plunged in deeply like a knife, which hurtful words often did when it came from someone she loved, and it would hurt too much to remove the knife.

"Am I enough?" she whispered. "Is my best enough for you?"

"Yes," James said with empathy. "You are enough. Your best is enough."

Evaline took a deep breath, slowly turning her head to finally look up at him. James seemed genuine, and he met her eyes with heartfelt concern and conviction.

"Thank you," she said softly. "You are more than enough for me. But I want you to tell me if I ever am not."

"I can't think of a possible situation where you wouldn't be," James said. "I don't expect you to be anything but yourself, and whatever you have to give is enough. You don't have to be anything more than that."

Evaline suddenly let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around his chest, bringing him in for a hug. She perched her head on his shoulder and leaned against the side of his head, lightly squeezing her arms to bring him closer to her.

"I have trouble accepting it myself," she whispered in his ear, feeling the warmness in her chest fill the void in her heart. "But I want you to know that you are worth everything to me. You deserve love, and more. I want to be there on your best days and your worst days. But most of all, you are also enough. More than enough. You have already won my heart a long time ago, and nothing you can say or do will change that. Nothing."

It was true. It felt like an embarrassing confession, but James had no idea just how attached she was to him. She didn't want anyone else. Just him. And she wouldn't know what she would do without him. She didn't even want to think about it. She just wanted to be with him, always.

"And you have also won mine," James whispered back, hugging her close in return.

Evaline tightened her hug just a little, closing her eyes as she let the vulnerability take over since she felt safe in his arms.

"I would be so lost without you, James," she said. "You mean so much to me. So, so much."

"I don't know where I'd be without you either," James said. "You mean so much to me too. More than I could ever put to words."

"No, you don't understand," she said weakly, although she did appreciate his words, more than he could know. "I don't just want you now. I want you with me tomorrow, and the day after, and forever after. You are my future, James. That's all I want, all I've ever seen. You don't have to commit, and you don't have to answer, but..."

She dug her head deeper across his shoulder.

"That's how much you mean to me. No matter how much I push away, I'll always come back. I'll always find you, and I'll always want you, even if someday you don't want me anymore."

"You keep saying that - that I won't want you anymore, like it's bound to happen," James whispered. "But I want you too. I always have, all these years, even when I thought you were gone forever. And I still do. And I can't see a future without you either."

Evaline had to repeat the words in her head over and over, storing them in her memory so she could remind herself in the days she was convinced she was being a bad friend and even worse partner, and she was sure James was growing distant from her. She had to learn to re-wire her brain.

Not for James, but for herself. But it helped that doing this for herself would also help James, because she wanted to be her best self for him, too. She wanted to give him everything, not just her heart.

She felt the warm feeling circle her chest, feeling heavy but comfortably so. It felt right.

"I love you," she said softly in her ear, not sure what else to say. It was the only thing that came to mind.

"I love you too," James whispered back, holding her a little tighter.

They didn't address everything they talked about that day.

But maybe, just maybe, the progress they made together was enough.

Despite the tension and the argument from the night, Evaline was glad that she was able to reconcile with James the same night. He had told her that she was worth it, and that she was enough. He had told her to not change for him, but for her. And she did want to get better. She did. Evaline took these words to heart and let it seep in slowly over the course of the week until she fully believed it herself.

Evaline had to change her frame of mind to be less of, "James is too good for me and I don't know what I did to deserve him," and more of, "James believes that I am enough, and I am worth it, and that is enough for me." It was slow progress, but it was still progress. She was just grateful that he was so patient and so kind. She had to believe that she deserved that patience and kindness. She chose to believe it.

The next several days blurred by, and Evaline found herself slipping back into a familiar yet foreign-feeling version of herself. One that was patient, selfless, caring, and empathetic. She held James's hand whenever there were comfortably long silences, and James didn't seem to mind. She also experimented a bit with cooking the food, trying new spices and flavors, which James seemed to appreciate. She did this for James, yes, but she also did it for herself, because she wanted to try something new. It was a big plus to be able to do it with him, though.

Sometimes at night, instead of talking, Evaline would ask James to pose so that she could draw him. She'd take the journal and set it on her lap, readying the pencil.

"Any pose works," she said. "Are you okay with staying still until I finish?"

"Yeah," James said, standing in front of her, looking a little unsure of what to do with himself. "Um... is there a pose you had in mind?"

Evaline thought for a moment. She wished they had a book so that he could be entertained, and she'd like to be able to capture him live while absorbed by the words. She wasn't particularly picky about what she wanted to draw since she just wanted to draw him, but...

"Maybe... sit like this," she demonstrated as she lifted a knee up and leaned back with one arm. "And then have Sleepy sleep on your lap."

As she started posing, James knelt down, already starting to mimic her. He snapped his fingers and called Sleepy over. She waddled over to him, and then he placed Sleepy in his lap.

Evaline placed the journal back on her lap, readying the page. "And then... can you look at me? Hopefully you won't be too bored."

"I think I'll be fine," James said with a little smirk as he watched Sleepy get comfortable for a moment before he looked up to Evaline.

In all her drawings, she had only based him looking at her from her memory. This was the first time she would be able to observe him while he was observing her. As her pencil flew across the paper and she continually to glance up at him as reference, she found herself shyly smiling every time they made eye contact. It wasn't much, but it felt intimate, in a wordless way from a distance.

Evaline had entertained herself by asking him to pose a few times, but she made sure to do so sparingly since she didn't want James to be too bored (although, he hardly looked bored when he did model for her). On nights they chatted, they continued to go through her journal.






"It's funny," Evaline mused. "Maybe a month ago, I'd find this difficult to read. But now I feel like these thoughts are old news we both already know about since we have communicated it already."

"I think I'm glad we talked about it," James said. "You know, before reading it like this."

"I guess so. It certainly makes it easier to take in."



Evaline and James read the next several entries together, and James explained that he had already read these entries. It happened in Nye when she accidentally mistook his journal for hers, and she read some of his entries about her. In response, she wrote out personal entries for him to read, possibly out of shame and guilt. It was almost astounding how well she could understand the actions of her past, because she knew that her response would be fairly similar if it happened today - but she would likely openly communicate it instead.

Her fingers brushed over the last sentence of the last entry, knowing that the sentiments were the same. She still hoped he meant it when he said that he would wait years and years.

It seemed like James's eyes had settled on the same page, where her fingers rested.

"I still do," James said softly. "Mean it."

Evaline looked up at him with a little soft smile tugging her lips. "I know," she said quietly. "That's the difference between now and five years ago. I know you mean it."

James smiled softly in return.

"I'm glad," he said, leaning over and giving her a little kiss on the cheek.

Evaline smiled in response. Although James had explained that they never quite went over these entries in Nye, she was grateful that they didn't need to go over it extensively now, because they had brushed upon most of the topics already just by talking and getting to know one another.

The words "I am so broken" and "I think I am beyond repairing" hung limply in the previous page, but Evaline could confidently turn the page, moving on to the next chapter.






"I sounds like you were wanting to tell you wanted to stay for a while," James said quietly.

"Maybe," she said quietly, staring at the words. "I think I was confused, so I wrote it down thinking it'd help, but... I'll turn the page to see the rest of the paragraph."





"You felt selfish for... wanting me to like you?" James asked.

"I think..." Evaline began quietly as she squinted at the paragraph. "I think I felt selfish because I wanted you to like me, but I didn't want to like you back."

James hummed.

"Ah. That makes more sense," he said quietly.

She glanced up at him. "Like... my past behavior makes more sense now?"

"Oh, no, I was just trying to understand what you meant by selfish," he said. "Did you not want to like be back because you just didn't like me? Or... were you just afraid to?"

Evaline was quiet for a moment, thinking.

"You know, it's strange, reading these thoughts I had five years ago," she said quietly. "I felt similar when you came to Earth, and I put you in Terra. I didn't want to like you. Not because you were not likeable, but because I was afraid of what may happen and what may escalate if I did like you back. I think, back then, I was as afraid as I was before we became official again."

"Are you still afraid?" James asked.

She glanced up at him. "A little," she said sheepishly. "I'm still afraid that I'll lose you through ways neither of us can control. But I'm not afraid of you choosing to leave me."

"I can understand that," James said. "I think I'm afraid of that too. Losing you through ways we can't control."

"It is scary..." she said as she looked back down at the journal. "But over the past few months, I've realized that - despite the fears - it's worth it."

James smiled softly, meeting her eyes.

"I believe it's worth it too," he said before they moved on to the next entry.






James slowly reached over the page, tracing the words: "I'll let go of the attatchments, or at least I'll try."

"Are you still trying to let go of me?" he asked softly.

"I was when I returned from Nye, and even when you came back and were living in Terra," Evaline replied with regret, then looked up at him. "But... no. Not anymore. I couldn't do it very well back then, and now, I don't think it's possible for me to ever fully let you go, even if I wanted to."

"I don't think I could ever truly let you go either," he said quietly. "I guess that makes two of us."

"It's not like I want to, but I don't even know how to let others go. I wouldn't even know where to begin. Is that bad?"

"I don't think that's bad," James said. "It just sounds like something you can learn to do."

"Do you know how?" Evaline asked. "How to let others go?"

"Well... I don't know how other people do it. But I think I've just had to accept that for the people I truly love and care about, they never really do leave you entirely. Sometimes, the grief comes back in waves. Sometimes in seasons. Sometimes it subsides for years, and then I'll feel it again. I don't think the hurt of the loss ever goes away completely. You just learn to carry them with you, I think. And you keep going, because life still goes on. And at some point, you find that it doesn't hurt as much as it used to anymore. But I think... it helps to rememeber the people you lose. To talk about them. Ignoring the pain of loss only makes it fester. Or, so I've found. The hardest thing for me was to let myself actually grieve. To let myself be sad, and not try to force myself to 'move on' without actually feeling it."

Evaline silently listened, nodding slowly as she stared intensely at the page in front of them. James didn't know it, but she was filing away his advice on how to grieve and cope with loss, because she didn't know how to do it either.

"Do you have anyone you loved and cared about that still carries with you?" she asked softly. "Would you want to talk about them with me? If it helps?"

"I mean... I still think about my dad sometimes, but it doesn't hurt to talk about him anymore," James said. "There are other people I've lost -- not always to death, but some who won't ever come back."

He took in a deep breath.

"I guess... it's hardest to talk about Amy," James said quietly. "I never did tell you... how she passed."

"I don't need to know," Evaline said as she placed a hand over his. "But if talking about it will help you grieve, I am more than willing to listen."

James was quiet for a moment, and he leaned his weight a little on her with his shoulder next to hers.

"Well," he started with a sigh. "When she'd saved me from the grangor -- that was the name she'd given the beast. I think she based it off an old legend. But -- she expended so much of her energy to heal me. To bring me back from death. I don't know if I'd actually died, or if I was almost dead, but... it took me a long time before I actually came to. I can vaguely remember foggy glimpses of a shadow hovering over me... I was on my back a lot of the time, though, because... it was torn open."

He paused, swallowing hard as he took in another deep breath.

"I don't know how long it took her to fully heal me, but I know she said she did it in pieces because of how much energy it took to... bring it back together. If that... that makes sense."

"It does," Evaline said, remembering the thick scars on his back. "She seemed very selfless, choosing to expend all her energy to heal you, a stranger."

"I never fully understood it myself," James said softly. "But she stayed with me the whole time. Nursing me back to health. It took me months to get my strength back. For both of us to get our strength back. And the whole time we had to hide away in that cave, because the grangor would be too close for us to just run and escape. We would be able to sneak out and get food and water, but every day we lived in fear for our lives, because we knew there was no escaping it. It was too fast. For every step it took, we had to take twenty."

"You were with Amy for six months in hiding," she said as she recalled him saying that. "That must have meant you had a lot of time to get to know her."

"I did," he said quietly. "We... we became good friends. Even though we were both really struggling at the time. Not just physically."

He seemed to stiffen a little bit, looking down into their laps.

"Almost dying... I don't know. It did something to me. I struggled a lot back then," he said. "With even having the will to live, and not die. And Amy was getting desperate to leave. She'd been stuck there even longer than I had. It had been over a year for her... and she'd been driven into the jungle for similar reasons. She wasn't wanted for crimes, but for her magic. And for being a werewolf."

"That sounds lonely, frightful, and terrible," Evaline said. "I remembered you mentioning that she was childlike and innocent. How did she maintain the vigor?"

"I think that's just who she was," James said softly. "And I think maybe it was just her way of coping."

Evaline slowly nodded. "What were your favorite memories with her?" she asked.

James huffed through his nose as he looked down in thought.

"This one probably won't make much sense," he said faintly with a small smile. "But... the first time I woke up, after hovering between death and life for weeks, she said: 'You're finally awake! You must've been really tired.' And I was so confused at the time, but now it just makes me laugh. The fact that the first thing she did was joke about it all."

"Did Amy say a lot of jokes during that period of your life?" she asked. "What was she like?"

"It was interesting," James said. "She had moments where she was so immature and childish, and others where she was so brave, and so wise without even being aware of it. She did joke a lot, but a lot of her jokes were just... goofy, really. She often used funny faces and sounds as punchlines more than words."

"Do you think she was like that to cheer you up? Or do you think that was just who she was?"

"It's hard to say," James said. "I know she was always trying to cheer me up. But I think she was just like that, too."

Evaline nodded. "And you?" she asked. "What were you like with her?"

James sighed.

"I... I was very subdued," he said, and it sounded like he struggled to get the words out. "I don't know how else to say it. I was just... really depressed, honestly."

"You were on the edge of death, and that by itself is terrifying," Evaline said gently. "It would be concerning if you were not phased by what happened."

"I just felt like a hollow shell, really," James said lowly. "Like a husk of my former self."

"Did you improve over the six months?"

"A little bit," James said. "The last month I started to feel a small semblance of what I guess you could describe as normal. That was the same month that we... made a plan. For how to escape."

Since Evaline already knew that Amy was no longer alive, she could already deduce with a heavy heart that the escape must not have been a full success.

"What was the plan?" she asked gently.

"The plan was to kill the grangor," he said, his voice steady, but serious. "She would go out and lure it to one of the cave openings, where I would wait for her to come springing in before triggering a small cave-in as the grangor stuck its paw in. Then we would hurry out one of the cave tunnels to another exit and attack the grangor while it was stuck. Killing it before it could get free and catch up to us."

"Is that what happened?" she asked delicately.

"It's... part of what happened," James said. "We were able to trap it. And I--"

Evaline waited for James to continue, but he seemed to freeze mid-sentence, and it looked like he was unable to finish the thought.

"It's okay," Evaline said soothingly. "I don't want you to say or think through it if it hurts too much. I'm willing to wait however long it takes if or when you're ready to share."

"I wasn't... fast enough," James said, each word coming out stiffly, like he was forcing it out. "She was distracting it. I was supposed to -- and I did. It died. But not fast enough. Not before she got hurt. And I couldn't save her. Not like... she saved me."

Evaline paused, letting the heaviness of his words affect her as much as it affected him. It must have been horrific it must have been to witness a friend die, and not being able to do anything about it.

"I'm so sorry," she said softly.

"I couldn't even bury her," James said, his voice hollow. "I couldn't get her out."

"You couldn't. Not without her sacrifice being in vain. You did all you could do."

"The only reason I didn't kill myself right then and there was so that her death wouldn't be in vain," he said distantly.

Evaline silently rubbed her thumb against his palm she was holding, the heaviness of his words filling the air between them. It made her heart ache with pain. Seeing and hearing James suffer, even in the past, made her heart ache with pain.

"Was that what you told yourself, years later?" she asked quietly. "Was she still the reason?"

"Sometimes, yeah," James said. "Sometimes the only thing keeping me back was her."

"I think Amy would be proud of you," she said after another long pause. "She would be proud of you for staying strong, and keeping her in your memory."

"I just wish she was here to see it, you know," he said, his voice growing more strained. "I know she neevr will. I just wish she could see how far I've come, sometimes. And that I could've seen her..."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"I can't tell you how many times I've wished it was her who survived and not me. I know it... it doesn't help to think that now. But I still do, sometimes. Not as often as I used to, though."

Evaline squeezed his hand just a little, relieving some of the aching pain she felt by hearing his words.

"I think it's better to instead reframe the regret into wishing that you both survived," she said softly.

"That does sound like a better way to think about it," James echoed.

"Imagine if something similar happened to us, for instance," she said. "Say, hypothetically, we were in a situation where only one of us could survive. Imagine that you decided to be the one who decided to take the bullet for me. Would you like me to live through the rest of my life with regret, sadness, and wish for death in return for your life?"

James was quiet for a moment, and then leaned his head over on her shoulder.

"No," he said solemnly. "I wouldn't."

"How would you want me to live my life, then?" she asked.

"I would want you to eventually heal... and find happiness again," James said lowly. "Somehow."

Evaline nodded, satisfied by the answer. "I think Amy would also want the same for you."

"I do feel like I'm starting on that path," James said. "Slowly."

"You're starting the path," Evaline said as she gently squeezed his hand again. "You have plenty of time to reach the end of it."

James let out a long sigh.

"Yeah," he said, tilting his head on her shoulder so his cheek rested against it. "That's my comfort right now. That we have plenty of time."

It did make her happy to hear him say 'we' instead of 'I', and Evaline was glad to be by his side. She was glad to venture down the path with him, even if it was hard. As long as they were together, she would never lead him astray.

"We do," she agreed. "And I'll be with you every step of the way."

The rest of the week flew by. Evaline and James continued to go through the journal entries, and they continued to go through the routines. At night, she would continue to draw various poses of James, but also experimented with illustrations. Just doodles and cartoons. She had no idea if James was looking through it, but she did dabble in character design for the miner story he shared for Hendrik. She had no idea if she was remotely close to what he had in mind, but it was fun to imagine them and bring them to life on paper.

Evaline was also getting better at riding Elliot. There was a bigger open space for them to ride around, and she was determined to improve her horse riding skills. It was difficult to master galloping on Elliot, but when she was able to gallop around a wide circle without any difficulties, she found herself feeling accomplished, proud, and giddy. When celebrating the win with James, she found herself wanting to take his hands and then lean in for a quick smooch on the lips, similar to what she did in Nye. But instead she reveled in the win with him, and that was enough.

It was at the end of the week when James started to wake up more and more, sweating in his sleep and seemingly distraught when he returned to consciousness. He told Evaline that he had been having strange dreams, mostly conversations, but almost all of them being tense.

He explained one in particular that he dreamed through the eyes of an older man he had no recollection of, staring and talking to another man he didn't recognize. The man James was seeing through was being verbally threatened and blackmailed, and that was it. The dream was tense, and it was strange for him. Like peering through someone else's life.

And that was likely what was happening, especially since they were getting closer to the sectors, which had to be passed to get to the destination.

"It sounds like these are someone else's undone memories," Evaline concluded quietly. "You're not just seeing mine. You're seeing other time travelers going back in time."

"Do you know who it might've been?" James asked.

He then explained all of the dreams he had been having, and extensively described in great detail the people he saw. Evaline should know a great deal of time travelers since there were at most only four living in each sector, but she never cared to learn everyone's names or really get to know many of them. The last time she went to political meetings was when she was seventeen, and even then, she hardly talked with the adults. It was hard to say who she may or may not know, but of the dreams he described, they all certainly sounded like time travelers.

Manipulative, selfish, political, and fake cheaters. Just like Oliver, and just like herself, at one point.

"And then there's the dream I just had," James continued when she drew question marks over the appearances he described so far. "I wasn't able to see the man whose eyes I was looking through, but unless they're both time travelers, the man who was threatening me must have been the one who went back in time. He was tall and slender, but built, and dressed in a neat, black, well-fitted suit. He had fair skin and brown hair neatly combed back. And deep blue eyes, with a serious and severe expression. He was wearing a silver ring, and he talked a lot with his hands."

Evaline laughed through her eyes as James went on with the description, but then she fell serious as she realized that this couldn't have been a joke, because he had never seen or met any other time travelers except for Oliver and herself. She stared at him for far too long, at a loss of words, trying to figure out what to even say.

James looked at her curiously, like he was waiting for some kind of answer.

Evaline laughed weakly, shaking her head and looking away as she squinted up into the night sky.

"I don't know for certain," she said casually. "But it almost sounds like you're describing my dad."

James stared at her.

"Your... father," he said slowly, like he was letting it sink in.

"Like I said, I don't know for certain," she said as she continued to narrow her eyes at the sky. "He could be. He might not be. It's just a guess."

James nodded. He had Sleepy in his lap, and he was petting her idly. She had stirred when he'd woken up, but when he sat up she curled back up again, like she'd begun to grow used to it, and was no longer phased.

"I guess... I could see the resemblance," he said quietly. "You have the same eyes. And nose."

Evaline looked back over at him, scrunching her face from the comparison.

"I guess," she said. "Although, most people tell me I look much more like my mom. But my father gets more compliments over his looks, so I'll take that as a subtle compliment too."

James watched her reaction. "I didn't mean to compare," he said quietly. "Not like that, anyway. I don't know what it means that I'm seeing other time traveler's memories... but if these people are your family or other leaders... it's probably better that I don't see all of this. I can only see it complicating things."

Evaline paused to think for a moment, imagining the thousands of possible memories James could be seeing from the past decade or so. It must be so overwhelming for him to make sense of it when she could hardly make sense of it either. There were dozens of other time travelers that were nearby, and even more in other regions she knew about, but never been to.

It did make her a bit uncomfortable that James could dream about her family, though. But she knew he didn't have control over that.

"It's okay," she said with a faint apologetic smile. "I know you don't have any control over your dreams. The only time traveler you'll have any association with is me. I admit it's odd that this means you can dream of prevented moments from my parents, but... I know you won't do anything with the information. It's fine. Really. I'm not upset. I'm sorry if I gave any indication that I was."

James looked almost a little confused by her apology, and he nodded slowly, looking off to the side with his eyebrows drawn together in thought.

"I feel like there might actually be a way for me to filter things out. Different dreams, I mean. I'm not quite sure how to explain it, myself, but... especially in these last few nights, I've been... I feel like I'm learning. A little," he said. "Maybe I can learn how to keep it all out. So no one's privacy is intruded upon. Not yours, or your parents', or anyone else's."

"So you think... you can shut down the dreams?" Evaline asked. "Not dream of any undone memories at all?"

"Maybe?" James said. "I'm not sure. It's -- so if I had to try to explain it. It's like, when I sleep... sometimes, it's like I feel this... signal, in my head. Like something's calling out to me, and sometimes it's really distant, and other times it's like it's screaming. Like the memories are close, or far, or fuzzy or clear, and I think that has to do with our location in relation to where the memories occurred with the person that undid them. But each person's memories have a different feel to them. It's not quite an emotion, but it's like everyone had a distinct difference, and if I focus on it, I can pinpoint it. Like, your memories, I feel like I've become familiar with their... energy. Maybe that's a better word to use. Energy. Signal. I don't know. I know when they're yours before they start. But with other people's, I feel like I'm only starting to learn to identify them. And I feel like if I focus on a certain signal, I can block out the other ones."

He paused, looking down in his lap with a sigh.

"I wonder if I'm picking up on different signals because we're closer to the sectors, where other time travelers are and have gone back in time. I know you said before that proximity could play a part in the dreams I have or pick up on, and I have a feeling you're right. The problem is just that... everyone else's signals are foreign. But now that we're closer, the signal is clearer. Before it was like... a distant hum. Now it's comparable to the clarity of someone talking right here to me."

Evaline nodded slowly during his explanation. It was a lot to take in. She didn't think she ever even received this level of detail from Oliver when explaining his power. It was interesting to hear the mechanics of it, although she had no clue if it was similar to what Oliver and his family could do.

"If you could, would you choose to block out all the noise and energy signals, then?" she asked.

"That's what I've been trying to do," James said. "I've been trying to block it all out, but I've also been trying to figure out what I can even do, if that makes sense. I'm getting a better understanding of it slowly. But I think if I focus enough, I could potentially push any memory away. I just have to be very stubborn, sometimes. Some of the memories are easier to ignore than others. I think what I'm learning is how to choose between different signals, but some signals are really loud and hard to ignore. I just have to be more... determined, I guess. To push it out. If I can do that, then maybe I won't see your memories or anyone else's anymore. And then I can just hear them from you when you want to tell me."

It was a small thing, but she greatly appreciated that James wanted to give her privacy and respected it to the point that he'd be willing to completely void his power to dream of undone memories by other time travelers. There were so many people who would want his ability, but James didn't care about control. He didn't care to have access to information he wasn't supposed to know, and would rather he hear about her life from her own mouth. Evaline truly did appreciate that. It almost felt surreal to hear him say it.

"I wish I could offer guidance, but I don't have anything to offer to help train you," she said. "But... I do really appreciate all you're doing. I think we both find it bothersome that you have to live with this power. If there's anything I can do to support you, let me know. I know first-hand how difficult it is to manage your power without training, but it sounds like you are doing well by yourself so far."

"I'm really trying," James said. "I know there's still a lot we don't understand about what I can do, but at least with the dreams I feel like I'm getting a better understanding. I'm going to keep trying to block them out, if I can. It is tiring, but I think I can do it with practice."

And Evaline believed him. She gave him her full support, and she appreciated his sentiments some more. More than he could understand. She was reminded everyday by these small actions that James was a good man. If she had heard him say this before she met him, she'd have thought he was insane. But now, she was understanding, and grateful, and in agreement.

It was better to not get involved with the memories of other time travelers if they were going to have no association with them, anyways. And if the roles were reversed and she had the option of dreaming of personal memories he chose to undo, she would also not take it.

Because she, too, would rather hear James tell her stories in his own time rather than her prying into the private moments of his life. It felt more natural, and it felt more right. She wouldn't have it any other way with him.

The next day blurred by, and when night came back around, James seemed more eager than usual to sleep. Maybe he wanted to practice controlling the dreams some more. Either way, Evaline was always more than happy to see him want to sleep. It felt like a step-up from the dangerous insomnia he felt in Terra, although she knew he was still far from being well-rested.

As she sat next to him, she peered up at the sky, reminding herself for possibly the millionth time how lucky she was to have him in her life.

She didn't even really believe in luck. But James seemed like such a rare shining figure who she happened to cross paths with through unexplainable reasons, calling her first encounter with him that set the domino to what they had now felt right to call luck.

He was looking down at a young girl who he immediately recognized to be Evaline. She was skinny and gawky, and looked to be at be at the beginnings of adolescence. Twelve, maybe eleven. Her skin was fairer, and her hair was clipped back by a barrette. She was wearing a simple dark blue dress, and she had the same piercing blue eyes.

No, no. James didn't want to be seeing this. He'd failed to block it out. He couldn't seem to stop the memory as it played out.

"Yes?" Evaline said meekly up to the person whose eyes he was looking through.

"I wanted to check in," came a woman's voice, stern and cold. "You have your great grandmother's useless memory ability, but we know you can do more than that."

The woman -- likely Evaline's mother -- looked to her side to face a man with neatly combed brown hair sitting on a nearby chair, back facing them. Although he was sitting, he looked to be tall. He did not look back, instead reading a long sheet of paper in front of him. He vaguely looked to be the man he had seen before in his previous dream. Evaline's father.

"I know you can control time," the mother continued, looking down at Evaline again. "You just haven't told us yet."

Evaline looked nervous, fidgeting with her hands and looking away. "I... can't," she said quietly. "I don't know how."

Her mother sighed, uncrossing her arms to set one hand on top of Evaline's head to scruff up her hair. She flinched at her touch.

"Oh, darling," she said with forced gentleness. "You have to prove your worth. Don't you want to make your mother happy?"

"I have... been studying up like you told me," Evaline said. "I've also been drawing more."

"Evaline. My poor, poor Evaline," the mother said with almost a taunting tone. She brushed her hair with her fingers and then lifted her chin up so she could look up at her. "Perhaps you need a little pain. That was how my mother taught me, too."

Evaline's eyes went wide as she opened her mouth to protest, but suddenly the mother shoved her on to the floor. Evaline stumbled and fell, landing on the floor with one hand to catch the blow. She barely had time to react or say anything before the mother stomped forward and grabbed her by the hair, dragging her behind as she walked to the other side of the room.

"Mom!" Evaline cried out behind her, sounding pained. "Stop! Please!"

The mother did not look back or react, instead focused on reaching the wall in front of her. When she did, she picked up Evaline by her hair, placed her hand at the back of her head, and then slammed her against the wall. Evaline whimpered and then fell to the floor, appearing to be unconscious.

"Alina, please," the father said across the room, sounding tired. He didn't look back at them, still reading the paper. "Go back. You probably gave her a concussion."

James woke up with his heart aching, twisting in knots. He knew the moment that Evaline had been knocked unconscious that the memory couldn't have been hers. It had to be her mother's.

Her mother reversing the abuse she'd done to Evaline.

James tried not to make any sudden movements as he woke up, feeling his chest weighing him down, like he'd just seen a secret he was never supposed to know. His heart hurt for Evaline, and he couldn't help but feel many things fall into place into his mind. If this had happened once, and her parents could just undo it, there was no telling how many more times this had happened before in Evaline's childhood.

Whether or not it was undone, those things had to stick with her. They had to affect the way her parents treated her, even if she didn't remember the pain or the hurt.

James wanted to crawl out of his skin. He didn't even know if Evaline remembered any of the abuse, and he was terrified to tell her. How was he supposed to tell her about this?

He'd really tried. He really had. He'd tried so hard to keep the memory out, but he was so tired. He hadn't been stubborn enough.

James felt tears spring to his eyes, but they weren't for himself. They were for Evaline.

Desperate to keep his crying silent, he grit his teeth and took careful, quiet breaths. But Sleepy seemed to have sensed that he'd woken up, and as he pulled his blanket a little tighter around them, Sleepy pushed herself out of the side of the blanket, padding over to Evaline, who was sitting by Elliot's feet. James could only really make out her shadow. Ever since they'd stopped building fires, he couldn't make out more than everyone's outlines.

"You have about an hour left," he heard Evaline say quietly, like she didn't want to wake him in case he wasn't fully awake.

James wasn't sure how to answer. His throat was still knotted up, and he didn't trust his voice to sound how it should've if he'd woken up from normal insomnia. He swallowed hard, and blinked just as tightly, trying to clear away the tears.

"Okay," he said, his voice croaking and rough.

Evaline, observant as usual, seemed to detect that something was out of the ordinary.

"Did you have another dream?" she asked softly.

James was scared to say it. Normally, he had no problems sharing, because they were her memories. But this wasn't hers, and yet, it still was. The line felt blurred.

But he knew he had to be honest.

He wiped his eyes with his blanket before he slowly sat up, feeling defeated, like he'd lost a battle he should've won.

"Yes," he said dejectedly. "I was really trying not to. But it pushed back harder."

He heard Evaline shuffle, crawling until she sat next to him, huddled close together with their shoulders touching.

"It's okay," she said gently. "It takes time to learn how to control it. I know you'll figure it out someday."

"I hope so," James whispered, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything else just yet. The memory still weighed on him, like a dark cloud he couldn't get rid of.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked when the silence dragged on.

"I'm not sure if I do," he admitted lowly. "It wasn't a good memory."

Evaline paused, and she reached out her hand to hold his. Even in the dark, she seemed to have no trouble finding it.

"That's okay, you don't have to share," she said soothingly, like she detected his rising anxiety. "I trust you whether you tell me or not."

"If the dream was personal," he asked in a whisper. "But not yours...?"

Evaline was quiet for a moment. Her body wasn't tense, so perhaps she was thinking it through.

"Did you dream something about Oliver?" she asked, sounding more curious than anything.

"No," James said, feeling guilty. "It was your mother."

Now he felt her tense up, almost immediately. But she still held his hand firmly.

"What... what did you dream about?" Evaline asked with the edges of nervousness in her voice.

"It's a painful memory," James prefaced, trying to give her as gentle but as honest of a warning as possible. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes. What is it?" she asked, anxiety now present.

James held her hand with the same firm grip in return.

"Your mother told you that she suspected you could time travel," he said slowly, and steadily. Careful, because he didn't think he had to say all of the details. "And your father was in the room, but he wasn't paying attention. Your mother was very harsh with you, and you seemed... scared."

James paused, taking in a deep breath.

"She hurt you," James said quietly. "And undid it at your father's request."

Despite the reveal, Evaline seemed to relax her grip on his hand as she took a deep breath.

"With that build-up, I was so worried you were going to say something worse," she said with a weak laugh at the back of her throat. "I don't know what I was expecting, but... Yeah. I don't know."

James slowly turned to her, wishing he could make out her facial expression in the dark. He looked at her with deep concern.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't know anything about your mother and what else I could've seen. But..."

What did Evaline mean by something worse?

"I'm so sorry, Eve," he said softly. "That your parents hurt you."

"It's fine," she said calmly. "Really."

It was strange. James had talked to her with personal subjects that seemed less heavy than this, but this seemed to hardly affect her.

"No, no it's not," James said, turning to face her more squarely, despite not being able to make out her face. "You didn't deserve that, Eve. It's not fine that they hurt you."

"It was done out of necessity," Evaline continued to calmly justify. "It was part of the training. I got out of it... most of the time. It did help me get fairly good at going back because of pain. I can't say it helped much with anything else, but... that did help."

James only felt more distress at her words, and it pained him to think that Evaline was convinced this was okay, or justified.

"Eve," he said, gentle, but insistent. "I don't know how your parents tried to spin it, or how you've tried to make sense of it, but there is nothing that justifies what I saw your mother do. Nothing justifies a mother hurting her daughter like that on purpose. No one should have to learn pain from their parents. It's not okay, and it's not your fault."

Evaline slowly pulled her hand away from his, letting the silence hang in the air between them.

"I don't really know what you expect me to say to that," she said softly, even almost sounding hurt, like she took offense to his words.

He felt in his heart that she wasn't ready to accept anything he was saying, because he knew this was more complex. More complicated, because her parents had told her it was to help with her powers, and they were her family. It didn't sound like she harbored any bitterness towards them at all. It sounded like she was offended that he would even accuse them of wrongful abuse.

He knew he couldn't just magically convince her that he was right. He couldn't peel back years of abuse and who knew what else in one conversation.

He'd aleady been too brash. This was something to be dealt with delicately.

"You don't have to say anything," James said quietly. "If you don't want to. I'm sorry I was so quick to shut you down. I want to hear what you have to say."

He needed to be patient and listen. Not just try to fix her. He felt guilty for rushing to correct her instead of actually hearing her.

"I don't know if there's much else to add from what I've already said," Evaline said through a sigh, but she seemed open to talk about it. "I didn't really know of the instances where it was my mom who went back instead of me, but it sounded like it could be preparation. My parents were my trainers, and they told me that the most effective way to control time was two-fold: lack of feelings or attachment, and pain. I mastered the pain part fairly quickly. I can't say I did very well on controling emotions, though, as you know."

James hated to hear that her power was best controlled by two things that could destroy a person. It only made his heart ache more.

"I'm so sorry, Eve," he said quietly. "That sounds miserable."

"Training is supposed to be miserable," she countered, still not sounding like she understood the severity of the subject. "It was a temporary struggle that made me stronger, in the end. But they were always so busy. I wish I had the chance to have more trainings, even if it was with someone else."

"But was training miserable for other people too?" James asked. "Did other people get hurt just to learn the extents of their powers? Is that normal?"

"It's different for me," Evaline said. "I was the only child training with time powers in my sector. I didn't really have any other option, or could just ask around. Everyone's trainings is supposed to be different, anyways."

"Would you train me like that?" James asked. "Since I can skip ahead because of pain?"

Evaline was quiet for a moment. "I'm sure the method of training would be different since you go forward instead of back. But - I don't know. I'm not the expert."

"But can you imagine someone pushing me to my physcial limits, just to see if it triggers my power?" James asked.

"Like... the Gaea?"

"Yes," James said.

"That would be torture," Evaline said quietly. "As we both know, since it happened."

"How is that any different from what happened to you?" he asked just as quietly.

Evaline paused again, thinking this through. "The Gaea did that out of evil, malicious intent," she said lowly. "That's the difference. All they wanted to do was hurt you, because they could."

"Someone's intentions can be 'well-meaning' but if they hurt you, they hurt you," James said. "That doesn't make the hurt any less than what it is. If the end result is still the same, but the person hurting you tells you it's because they love you... how does that make it better?"

Evaline let another long pause draw out before she broke it again. "They're my parents," she said like that was supposed to be an explanation.

"I know they are," he said gently. "But regardless of who they are, they've hurt you."

"But I can undo it," she said. "All three of us could. I didn't really get hurt."

"But the memories stay with you," James said. "Just because you don't continue to feel the pain in your body doesn't mean it leaves your mind. When someone hurts you, that stays. Especially if it's someone you care about who did the hurting."

"It's different," Evaline continued defensively. "They would always support and encourage me afterwards. It was never done out of malicious intent. It was just a short, necessary pain."

James was feeling desperate. Evaline was so insistent to justify her parent's abuse, and he didn't know what it would take for her arguments to fall apart. And he didn't know how the gravity of it all would hit her -- if or when it finally did.

"Imagine that when I was young, I discovered I could leap forward, but it was only triggered by extreme pain and distress," he said slowly. "And in an effort to help me discover and develop my power, my parents would hurt me every day, trying to speed up the process. And then they would pat me on the back when it was all over, saying good job."

Evaline was quiet again, longer this time. The silence grew too long to be comfortable, but James waited patiently. She seemed to need time to think this one through.

"How would you react?" she asked quietly.

"I would wonder why they were congratulating me for taking a beating," James said just as quiet. "I would be confused, and hurt."

"What if it was because you wanted to hear them compliment you, and approve of what you did?" she continued in the same hushed voice.

"I would like to think," Jame said gently. "That there are plenty of other things they could congratulate me for that don't involve me getting hurt because of them."

"And if there isn't?"

"They're blind," James said.

Evaline was quiet again.

"But what if..." she started again, sounding unsure and nervous. "What if you wanted to hear them congratulate you anyways? And it was the only option?"

James had to fight back his own tears on Evaline's behalf. He forced himself to keep it together. For her.

"I would tell my younger self that I'm so sorry you felt like you had to get hurt just to earn your parent's approval and feel accepted. You don't have to do that anymore, and your parents shouldn't have made you feel like that was the only option to feel love and acceptance. You're worth so much more than that. You don't deserve to take a beating to recieve love."

There was an even longer pause that felt far too long to be even remotely comfortable, but still, James waited for her response. He wanted to hear what she had to say. And he knew this was important for her to hear.

"It's been nine years since I've seen them," she said softly, finally breaking the silence. "I often wonder what they're doing, or if they miss me, or even think about me. Is it bad that... Would your younger self, if older - would he, or should he, miss his parents anyways?"

"I think he would," James said softly. "And I would tell him to forget the shoulds or should nots. If that's how he feels, then that's how he feels, and that's okay. They were his parents. His family. The human heart longs to be with family... even if it hurts to be with them. I would tell him not to beat himself up over it. You can still think about them and miss them."

Evaline took a long, drawn-out, shaky breath in and out.

"I do miss them," she said quietly. "If I could see them again... I think I would. But I know that's not possible."

James gingerly reached his arm around Evaline's back, resting his hand on the back of her shoulder.

"I think that makes total sense," he said gently.

"It was done out of love," she continued in the hushed voice. "At least... I think it was. That was what I wanted out of it."

"I know this is hard to talk about," James said, matching her volume. "But I don't believe love looks like hurting someone. I know that's what you wanted. But it doesn't sound like that's what your parents showed you."

Evaline took another shaky deep breath. "I don't think I really knew what love was back then. I still don't think I know much about it now. I just know that afterwards they would hug me and - I don't know. It's been so long. I hardly think about it anymore."

James was quiet for a moment as he let her words sink in, feeling the pain of it.

"I don't want to force you to think about it too much," James said softly. "But I really want you to know that love doesn't have to be earned by pain, or earned at all. Love is patient, and kind, and it doesn't hurt you in the name of itself. Love is gentle, and it's quick to listen. Slow to speak. Slow to get angry. Love is having self-control. Love is being gentle, and loyal, and honest, and true. Love is selfless, and bears long with others. Love is unconditional, and love speaks the truth. Love is more than just a feeling. It's a lifetime of decisions. A choice you make every day."

He pulled her shoulders in a little closer.

"Love is like a garden. It grows flowers because you planted them. It bears fruit because you've sowed the seeds. It's not like the wild plants of the earth that grow without taming. It can start there, sure. That's passion. But you can't harvest what you've never planted. And it won't grow to the full if you don't take the time to care for it. Love is work, but a worthy labor. Especially for you."

Evaline was quiet again, and her shoulders tensed under his arm as she leaned forward. Another long silence dragged on before she spoke again, voice low and hoarse.

"It probably all makes sense to you now, doesn't it?" she said stiffly. "Why I am the way I am, and why I need speeches on love."

James was quiet for a moment, trying to hear the layers behind what she was saying. He didn't expect it to sink in right away, or at all just yet.

"I'm not trying to 'make sense' of you," he said softly with a small sigh. "I might've gotten a little carried away... describing what love is. I'm sorry."

"No - no, it's fine," Evaline quickly reassured, which she often did any time he apologized. "I just..." She sighed, leaning forward with her knees to her chest. "I wish I can make sense of it all," she finished softly.

James hummed and nodded.

"I think understanding ourselves comes with time," James said quietly. "It's good to reflect, sometimes, why we do what we do, and why we think the way we think. So we can identify the things we're doing that hurt ourselves or others. But a house isn't built in a day. I think you're making tremendous progress just in the conversations we've been having. You might not see it just yet, but I do."

Evaline was still for a few moments, but didn't let the silence drag on as she had before.

"I've never really fit in anywhere, growing up," she said softly. "My parents tried to mold me to be more like them. More like other time travelers. And I was put to a higher standard, because I was supposed to go on to be Sector 1's future leader. But I never really fit in. I was 'too emotional' and all I wanted to do was be with my friends, who I felt like were the only ones who saw me. But it was just with them. I wanted to - I don't know. I left, they left, I couldn't turn back, and now I don't really know if there's anyone else who can see me. I can't even decide if I want them to. I don't know."

With each passing sentence, her voice became more erratic and frantic, and she tightened her grip around her knees, tensely leaning forward unto herself. James gently held his arm around her back, watching her with concern.

"Do you want me to see?" he asked softly.

Evaline sharply took a deep breath, which hitched in her throat. "I used to not want you to," she said.

"What about now?"

She paused. "Now I do," she whispered. "But I don't always like how it feels."

"How does it feel?" James asked softly.

"Sometimes it hurts," Evaline whimpered, sounding like to be on the edge of tears.

"Do you know why it hurts?" James asked even quieter.

"I - I don't know," she said with a shaky breath and a sharp inhale. "Love has always hurt, if I love too much."

"Who told you that you love too much?" James asked in a gentle whisper.

Evaline curled up into herself as she tried to loudly steady her shaky breaths through her mouth. It took her a long moment to collect herself.

"Is it wrong?" she rasped instead. "Is it possible? Do I love too much?"

"I don't think that's possible," James said. "I think it's beautiful that you love with everything you are and all that you have."

"I wanted their love so bad," she continued through a cry. "I had to work to get it. Prove myself. But it was never enough. I was never enough. But I couldn't stop."

"I don't think you can blame yourself for that," James said softly. "Of course you wanted to be loved. That's one of the foundational desires of the human heart. You were only doing what you could in a very, very painful situation."

"But - but it wasn't enough," Evaline sobbed. "I was never good enough. I never deserved their love. No matter what I did, I was never enough to deserve it."

"Eve," James said softly, leaning closer to her and keeping his hand on her back. "Your parents not loving you has nothing to do with you earning it or deserving it. You deserve to be loved. Your parents were just too broken to see it. They didn't see your worth, and they didn't treat you with love or kindness, and it's not because of you. It's not your fault. You shouldn't have had to prove yourself. You shouldn't have had to feel like you had to fight to deserve it. The moment you were born, that should've been enough. It is enough. I'm so sorry they convinced you otherwise."

"Y-you said... broke. Broken," she said through loud cries she could no longer stifle. "Am I... am I broken?"

"I think we're all broken in different ways," James said quietly. "But broken doesn't mean broken forever. We all have to find our own paths to healing. I just want to help you find yours."

Evaline suddenly turned towards him, desperately reaching out towards his chest to cling to his shirt, pulling him in while leaning towards him herself. She had never forced a hug like this before, but James was quick to wrap his arms around her, holding her close as he leaned forward and setting his chin on top of her head.

"I don't know - I don't know where it is," she croaked as she cried in his chest, gripping on his shirt tightly. "Please... please don't leave me."

"I won't, Eve," James said, fighting back the knot in his throat. "I'm not going to leave you. I'm here. I'm with you."

Evaline cried loudly for a long time, her breaths shaking her body and a high-pitched whimper escaping with each new sob. The tears soaked through his shirts, and she had clung to him with such desperation and force, her nails had started to dig in towards his skin, although it was unlikely she had noticed.

After several long minutes, her grip finally started to loosen until her hands laid limply against his chest, and her breaths had steadied to a shaky rhythm. Evaline sniffed every so often, like she was trying to avoid getting the snot on his shirt, but failing.

James rubbed her back slowly, pulling his head away just a little. Evaline didn't move, head still curled inwards towards his chest.

"I really do love you, Eve," he said softly. "I love you. So, so much."

She didn't verbally respond, still taking heavy breaths and sniffing, but placing a weak amount of pressure against his chest with her hand.

"And you don't have to say anything," he said quietly as an assurance. "I just wanted to tell you again. And I'll keep telling you over and over, so you don't forget."

A deep breath hitched in her throat, and she rolled her head across his chest, but didn't look up or pull away.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, barely audible.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," James whispered back. "You get to cry. I want to hold you. It all works out."

"I'm sorry for taking so long," she said with her voice breaking as the cries started to come back again. "For learning - learning how to love. For you."

"I told you I would wait, didn't I?" James asked softly. "I meant it. I will wait for you. As long as it takes. I'm not in a hurry."

Evaline slid her hands towards his back until her arms fully wrapped around him, and she snugly brought him closer, her head still buried in his chest as she softly cried. James hugged her tighter in return, letting her cry as long as she needed to, waiting for her to be the one to pull away.

"You're always patient," she said quietly after another minute or two, voice muffled.

"You should see me around bounty hunters," James said. "I'm a lot less patient with them."

"I wouldn't want that," she said softly.

James took in a slow breath, realizing the small joke was poorly timed. He squeezed her a little tighter for a second.

"Me neither," he said just as softly.

"...Thank you," Evaline whispered as she squeezed him back, and finally lifted her head out of his chest to nest on his shoulder. "For being patient."

"Of course," James whispered back.

"Thank you," she continued to whisper in his ear. "For being with me."

"I want to be," James said softly.

"And thank you," she said again, then paused for a moment. "For loving me."

"I want to do that too," he said, hugging her a little tighter, just for a second.

Evaline mirrored the squeeze of the hug. "I do too," she whispered. "I love you too."

"And I love you."

Something changed after that night. Evaline went to sleep thinking she'd feel hollow and empty, but it was actually the opposite. She felt full. Whole. Complete. Heavy.

And her sleep that night was deep. James let her sleep in and she woke up from the sun's rays in her eyes hitting her eyes. When she sat up and blearily rubbed her eyes, she saw that James had already packed everything on Elliot and was ready to go. Next to her was a fresh set of clean clothes she could change into, as well as breakfast in a bowl, covered so that the sand wouldn't get into it.

Like usual, James was patient and gentle. He merely asked her if she slept okay, but didn't prod any more from the conversation they had last night. And Evaline was grateful for that, because she didn't know how much vulnerability she had left in her. It was like all her walls were destroyed, and she was left to the mercy of James.

But James was kind. James was gentle. That was how he described love, right? He was the embodiment of love. Evaline could see that, and she was starting to understand.

She was quiet most of the day, and for the days afterwards. It wasn't like she was shy... or didn't want to talk. She just didn't have much to say. It felt comfortable, sometimes, just being with James, the man she loved. Even if she wasn't saying anything, or talking much. And James didn't seem to mind it.

Evaline found herself immersed in drawing again. She used to immerse herself in music, art, and books when young, although she never did completely like drawing because it was a forced upon her. It wasn't used as much of an escape, but she did get good at it.

As an adult, she wanted to reform the skill to something she liked to do. Evaline found herself experimenting with different types of styles, not necessarily sticking to realistic portraits. In the evenings, she'd ask James to cook so that she could use the remaining daylight to draw. Before it became too dark, she'd show him some of the doodles she had created.

Just experimental sketches of him, or her, of animals. Many were cartoon-like, but some blended elements of realism. It was also therapeutic to experiment with shading, and she only wished she had colored pencils, or anything to color with. But for now, she was fine with black and white.

Sometimes, Evaline would ask James to pose for her. He'd settle into various relaxed poses of himself sitting, or laying down, or standing by Elliot. One day, Evaline decided to change things up.

"Maybe... pose with your sword?" she asked with the end of her pencil tapping her lips as she imagined it.

At the moment, James had the sword sheathed at his side. He looked down at it in thought, and slowly drew it out, holding the blade steadily in his hand.

"Just holding it?" he asked. "Or...?"

Evaline quietly hummed. "What do you think would look best?" she asked.

James hummed as well, then took the sword in both hands. He lifted it in the the air, like he was going to strike.

"Is it heavy?" she asked, a little concerned. "You'd have to pose like that for a while."

"I could do it for a few minutes," he said. "But I'll get a little stiff."

"Okay. Let me get a quick outline, then..."

Evaline watched him for several long seconds as she noted how he held the sword, and how the lighting hit the metal. She quickly drew an outline, glancing up and down between the page and James, not bothering to look at his face since she didn't need him to reference it.

It had been a while, but she was trained to memorize faces and positions and features by glimpses. She just wanted to take the extra time to make sure she was getting it right, especially since this was a typical realistic sketch.

She told him he could relax after a few minutes, and she deeply concentrated on the sketch, quickly drawing so that she could finish a draft before it got to be too dark. When she finished, she showed James, and he smiled. He seemed pleased.

The days have been fairly uneventful, other than a few things that happened here and there. For a whole night, Sleepy nested on the sandy pit that was the fire they used to cook. When they woke up, they were both surprised to see that she had laid an egg.

"What do we do with it?" Evaline murmured as she held it with her thumb and forefinger, bringing it close to her face.

"Eat it?" James suggested. "It's not like it's... you know."

Evaline slowly turned it around, admiring its geometry. It was also surprisingly warm in her hands.

"Do you know how to cook it?" she asked.

"I know a few ways," James said. "Depends on how you like it."

"Well," she said with a small smile as she offered it back to him. "I can try it with the way you like it."

"Scrambled it is, then," he said, taking the egg with a little smile. "It won't be a lot, but, it'll be nice to eat something other than re-heated freeze-dried food."

And James was right. It was only enough for a few small bites between the two of them, but with the salt and pepper he added, it wasn't bad. It was nice to eat something new for a change, and James seemed to enjoy it too, which was a plus.

Another random event that happened during their routine was when a giant scaly lizard suddenly sprinted in front of them, haughtily dug a hole in the sand, and gobbled up a snake that was hiding in the sand. It slurped up the snake like a noodle, and with half of it still twitching out of its mouth, it slowly turned its head and slow-blinked at the two of them, with one eye slower to blink than the other.

Both Evaline and James stared back and froze, but luckily they didn't need to do anything more, because the lizard suddenly sprinted the other direction, probably off to slurp more snakes.

It was strange, and they nervously laughed about it afterwards, but it did make her uneasy. There were probably other beasts that could easily gobble them up like the snake, but as long as they remained on schedule, they should be fine. Evaline didn't even know if Hendrik could fully understand just how vital he was to everyone's health and survival.

Several days had passed, and Evaline had finished her sleep shift, staying up and drawing little doodles on the sand with a stick, even if it was dark and hard to see. She had grown accustomed to the silence of the night, so James stirring more than usual had caught her attention.

James was getting up on all fours, but it sounded like he was heaving. It was hard to tell if he was hyperventilating or if he was going to throw up, but his arms were shaking as he held himself up.

Seeing James panic made her want to panic too. She quickly crawled over, nearly stumbling from trying to get to his side as fast as she could.

"It's okay, it's just a dream," she said as she wrapped her arm around his waist, steadying himself in case he fell over.

James let out a low groan through his teeth, and she felt him curl his back under her arm. His fingers were arched tensely, digging into the sand beneath him, and he seemed to tense up into a ball, bringing his head down to the ground. He let out another ground, this one more guttural. Pained, and frustrated.

"I had another dream," he said through his teeth, but he sounded almost bitter. Defeated.

It always made Evaline sad to see James needlessly suffer in his sleep, but she swallowed the pity down, knowing that she had to be here for him right now. She didn't know what he could have dreamed, but it must not have been good.

"Let's wait a few minutes," she said softly. "Take deep breaths for me."

James still felt very tense, but she could feel him starting to take slow breaths. In and out, lungs expanding, up and down while she rubbed his back with her hand to coax him. It took a minute of steady breathing before she saw his fingers loosen their grip in the sand, and the tension slowly left his body. When he was breathing at a normal rate, he almost fell to the side, but she steadied him, and guided him down to the ground, lying him on his side. When he looked up at her she could see he'd gotten sand stuck to his forehead and in his hair.

"I saw it through Alan's eyes this time," he said hoarsely. "I could feel it all. Dying. Slowly. Again."

The last word came out like a sigh, and he closed his eyes, looking exhausted.

Evaline's heart sank deeper into her chest, both because he dreamed of a personal memory that was better left alone, and because James had to both see it and feel it. She knew she was the one who undid it, even if she couldn't fully remember it. Even though she was intimately tied to what happened that day, she didn't want to make this about her.

"You're in no rush," she said quietly, brushing the sand off his face and hair, making sure it didn't land in his eyes. "Just breathe. It's okay. I'm here. We're okay."

"I'm so tired," he said quietly, the weariness coming through in his voice. "It was like it ambushed me. I'm sorry. I'm just so tired. I couldn't fight it."

"It's okay," Evaline said soothingly, pushing his hair back before the sweat on his forehead could make it stick on his skin. "I know you're trying so hard not to see. It's not your fault. I'm not upset. I don't blame you. I'm just glad you're okay."

"It --" James stuttered. "It was like I was dying. Again. I didn't-- I'm-- this one started out so unassuming. I knew it was coming, but I still wasn't ready for it."

Evaline continued to silently assure him, feeling nervous to hear what he had to say, but ready to hear it anyways. She wanted to support him, while also face her past. She didn't know which undone memory he could have seen, but she'd patiently find out, if he wanted to tell her.

James took in a deep breath, and after a few seconds only filled with his heavy breaths, he pushed himself up so he was sitting next to her. He looked drained, like the dream had knocked the wind out of him.

"It started in the classroom," he said slowly. "Alistair was sitting in front of Alan, and some of the kids were talking about school. Nothing of substance, really. Arima left the classroom quietly, and Alistair was looking over at a few desks. Alan followed his gaze, and looked at you, Elias, and Mel sitting together. Elias had his head down on his desk with his arms folded around his head, and you were looking down at a paper, resting your chin in your hand. Mel seemed restless, like she wanted to say something, but she didn't. There was... this unspoken tension. And Alan got up to talk to you all, like he wanted to break it. He talked to Mel first, taking her aside... but it was like the dream flickered in and out of focus. I don't really know what they talked about. And by the time it was over, Mel had left, you'd walked away, and it was just Elias sitting at his desk, still with his head down. It was hard to tell if he was asleep, or if something else was going on."

He paused, swallowing, like he was nervous.

"It escalated quickly," he said quietly, but he kept talking, like he was trying to push through it. "Alan said Elias's name, but Elias didn't respond. So, he hesitated, and then-- then he just-- all he did was touch his shoulder with a gentle nudge, and then..."

Evaline already knew how this story ended. It was strange, though... reliving it nine years later. Strange, and also intimidating. But she wanted to stay strong for James.

"I know," she said under her breath, reaching over to take his hand for support.

"I just didn't expect to feel it," James said in a harsh whisper. He held her hand loosely. "Everything... slowly fading."

Evaline rubbed her thumb against his palm, her heart aching that James had to feel the pain of that day. She thought it had been contained, but now he was sharing the baggage of her past trauma. Not through her eyes, but by Alan's. He not only witnessed his death too, but he felt it.

"Do you still feel it?" she asked softly.

"It... lingers," he said quietly, turning his eyes to the ground. "But it's going away. Slowly."

"It'll go away in a minute or two," she said as she continued to rub his hand. "I'm here, it's okay. Keep breathing for me."

James nodded, and he leaned his head forward into her shoulder as he took in deep breaths again. About another minute passed before he let out a long, relieved sigh.

"I'm still trying to keep them out," he said wearily, still with the top of his head pressed up against her shoulder. "I'm going to keep trying."

"I know," Evaline said as she patted the back of his head. "I know. You're trying your best."

He took in another deep breath as he pulled away, looking up at her with tired eyes.

"How much time do I have left?" he asked quietly. "Before we switch?"

"About an hour." She paused. "But if you can't go back to sleep, I'll stay up with you."

James nodded slowly, and wordlessly, he picked his blanket back up and laid back down, not seeming to care that he was getting sandy as he pulled the blanket up to his shoulders.

"I just want to at least lie down for a little longer," he said in a whisper.

Evaline nodded slowly, her brows drawn together in empathy and understanding. "I'll be right here next to you if you need me, or want to talk," she said gently.

"Thank you," James said as he closed his eyes, leaning his head to the side.

Evaline silently watched James sleep, feeling her heartstrings being pulled because of his suffering. She knew this was all she could do, but she wished she could do more. Instead, she opted to not wake him up, letting him sleep in until his body naturally wakes up. She thought this may result in at least an extra hour past his scheduled wakeup, but after about forty minutes, James began to stir again.

He lazily opened his eyes halfway as he stretched out his legs and shifted his shoulders, grunting.

"How long has it been?" he asked, but his words were almost untintellible, as a low grumble.

"About forty minutes," Evaline answered, watching him. "You can go back to sleep if you're still tired. I don't mind."

James nodded, but he didn't quite close his eyes all the way. It was hard to tell if he was fully awake judging from his lagging response.

"What did you draw?" he asked, his voice a little clearer.

"Well..." Her eyes drifted to the patch of sand next to her where she had idly drew doodles with a thin stick she found. It was a random way to pass the time since they no longer had fires at night. She sometimes also made sand sculptures, but they were never that great, not held very well.

"I was practicing drawing Elliot running with different frames in mind," she said. "But on the sand, using a twig as a pencil. It doesn't use up paper, and plus it's easy to start over."

James hummed, and started sitting up, first propping himself up at his elbows. He closed his eyes again for a moment and then squinted back over at her.

"Economical," he said.

"I learn from the best," she said with a small smile, but she knew that James couldn't see.

James smirked slightly, and he tilted his head to the side. She could hear what sounded like an uncomfortably loud pop before he held his head straight up again and sat up straight. He patted his hands on his blanket before rubbing his eyes, likely making sure he didn't have sand on them.

"We can all stand to learn a thing or two from Elliot," James said as a delayed joke.

Evaline silently chuckled, still watching him with feigned interest. She secretly liked to take advantage of the dark by watching him closely without him really knowing.

"First it was you giving me lessons for horse riding, and now it's Elliot giving us lessons on life," she said with a smile. "Fitting."

"It all comes around," James said as he stretched out his arms and let out a sigh, finally looking a little more awake than before. "Well... you ready to sleep?"

"I was thinking I'd stay up with you for a bit," Evaline said with the lingering smile. "If that's okay."

"If that's what you want," James said, looking at her with an unfocused gaze and a small smile. "I won't argue."

"It is what I want," Evaline said as she inched closer to him, sitting so that their shoulders grazed each other. "I'll start with small talk. How's the weather?"

"I would say in comparison to some of the colder days we've experienced, it's pretty moderate," James said with a little grin. "A little chilly, but tolerable."

"Tolerable is a good word," she said with a little hum. "But with you by my side, the night just got a little warmer. And I hope that you can tolerate that cheesy line."

"I think I'll survive," James said teasingly.

"How are you, though?" she asked, easing into the question she wanted to ask him, while not poking at anything that could hurt. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Well... I'm alright, I guess," James said. "It helped to sleep a little after that -- that memory. It's still in my head somewhere, but it's not as loud anymore. I still feel a little odd, but... I'm not sure how to describe it."

Evaline nodded slowly, tearing her gaze away as she watched her palm open and close on her lap, thinking.

"I was thinking," she began slowly. "And I think the memory is so loud because I've gone back so many times in that one location. They're the same event, just with different variants, but with the same ending."

She bit her tongue, trying to shove back the creeping memories of their last moments together in Nye.

"Maybe the signal is stronger and louder and harder to ignore if that happens," she finished.

James was quiet for a moment.

"That could be one of the reasons," he said. "That would make sense, at least."

"I'm sorry that you have to keep seeing it," she said softly. "It can't be easy."

"It's getting easier, I think," James said. "Just because... well, I know how it always ends."

"Yeah," she whispered. "I do."

She paused for a moment, glancing at him.

"Do you... want to talk about it?"

"About... Alan's death? And Elias?" James asked softly, looking over to her.

Evaline swallowed the protests and the uneasiness. She wanted to do this. For James. But maybe also a little bit for herself, too.

"If you want to," she answered quietly. "It seems that my past trauma is becoming your trauma too. I don't want this to keep you up at night. So if it helps... I'd be willing to talk about it."

James looked out past them for a moment, like he was in thought.

"We can talk about it," James said. "I think I already told you most of the dream."

Evaline slowly nodded, taking a silent deep breath.

"You said that I had walked away," she said weakly. "That must mean you dreamed the first pass. The original timeline before I went back and attempted to change it."

James stared blankly at her. Well, almost at her. He blinked, like it was sinking in.

"Oh," he said quietly. "The first -- before you -- oh."

She took another deep breath to ease her rising anxiety. "Yeah," she said. "That was why it seemed uneventful at first. I assume it stretched to about ten minutes before... before Alan passed."

James looked back out into the darkness.

"That would explain why it was... so long," he said faintly. "On the front end."