* * *

“Argh! I don’t get it!”

Sarah looked up from her notes at Jeremy’s outburst, pencil balancing between her fingers.

He closed his book with a thump. “I don’t get how differentials work.”

“Don’t look at me. I’m not taking calculus.” Distracted by the pencil, she tried spinning it over her thumb. It flew across the table, almost smacking Jeremy on the forehead.

He rolled it back towards her. “You’re never gonna learn if you just mess around every now and again. Watch some videos if you wanna learn.”

She placed her pencil down beside her notes. Whatever motions she attempted felt more like muscle memory, though she was sure that she’d never learned it before.

“Jenna should know. She was top of the class last semester. Do you have her number?”

Sarah nodded, pulling out her phone. The letters and numbers blurred a bit as she went through her contact list. Was she already that tired?

She stopped at Jenna’s name. “Zero, zero, five, five, three, eight, nine, seven, five, nine, seven, two.”

Jeremy laughed, running over to look over her shoulder at her screen. “What are you even reading?”

Sarah blinked at the screen. “The phone number.”

“Sarah! In what world is that a phone number?” He wiped at his eyes. “Did you read your phone’s serial number or something?”

He took her phone from her hands and copied the number himself before handing it back.

“I think you need a break.” He kissed her cheek before returning to his seat.

Sarah stared at her phone. The numbers were still the same.

Maybe she should take a break. Maybe ten minutes.

Cold seeped into her body unexpectedly. Ten minutes wasn’t enough.

* * *

Sarah checked the numbers again. “Three eight nine seven five.”

The numbers looked right, but she’d sent Lore the wrong file twice now. It was even more ridiculous because she had double checked the file number both times.

Did she really need supervision for pulling up a file?

Lore, who was Center’s main analyst, had a side project tracking down every single New Nation-related event they had ever recorded. Apparently, Lore thought that might somehow lead them to the location of the gateway between the two parallel worlds—theirs and the one hellbent on invading them… or whatever their plan was.

A few low-level personnel, such as Sarah, had been recruited to help out between missions. Because the old data repository was not linked to any system with access from the outside, they had to go over some of it in-house and send Lore the files.

“Three eight nine seven.” She looked down at her notes. “Five.”

So far, Lore had been amused by her inability to send the correct file. Hopefully, the third time would be a charm. Sarah started transferring the files to the main server, checking the problem file’s number two more times just in case.

From the dates on these files, Lore was looking at reports from the W.R.O.’s early days, when they still hadn’t discovered a gateway existed. She was searching for people who’d been a part of the New Nation movement back then but that may have since left.

Ten minutes remaining for the upload. Sarah stared at the timer, a chill running through her.

* * *

Sitting on the couch, Sarah stared at the clock.

The seconds hand raced on mercilessly. Ten minutes wouldn’t be enough.

Jeremy plopped on the couch next to her, placing an arm around her shoulders to pull her closer. “You’re freezing.”

“I’ll be fine when I eat something.” Her eyes had still to come away from the clock.

“Are you zoning out again?”

“I’m fine, promise.” She leaned over to give him a kiss.

He smiled at her, and she guessed he chose to believe her.

But the clock still had ten minutes to go, always ten minutes… and ten minutes were never enough.

* * *

“They’re ten minutes out.”

The voice felt like it was right in her ear. Sarah started, slamming her back against the next row of processors.

Calming herself, she first confirmed she hadn’t disrupted anything. She then felt in her ears for a com even though yesterday had been her day off. There was obviously none, but some misplaced sound could still be heard.

She cursed under her breath just so she could hear something real.

“That’s not exactly the reception I was hoping for.”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

She whirled around to face the new—very real—voice. Pegasus was standing there looking fully awake and with a recently changed bandage.

“How are you feeling?”

He tentatively touched his temple. “Better.”

She turned back to watch the timer so she could avoid his gaze.

“I guess I owe you an apology.”

Sarah whirled to face him. “So you do remember?”

It was his turn to look embarrassed. “Not really.” He raised his palm to show her scribbles that spelled out ‘apolagizl 2 Srah’. She held in an unexpected burst of laughter. “Found it there when I woke up.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure whether she was upset or relieved, maybe both if that were at all possible. She wanted to turn away, afraid he’d see either in her eyes.

“Mind if I ask what I’m apologizing for?”

She met his gaze, a little suspicious. “You really don’t remember?” She cringed. Was that disappointment in her voice?

He shrugged his good shoulder. “Bits and pieces.”

Sarah held her tongue, figuring she was better off leaving things as they were until she understood her own confusing reactions. Unfortunately, Pegasus wasn’t onboard with that plan.

Pegasus came closer, and Sarah felt suddenly cornered even though she had room to back up.

His expression told her nothing of which bits and pieces he was aware of, but she remembered all of it. And it was more than enough to make her uncomfortable with their increasing proximity now that she’d decided to run away. Cowardice was as good an emotion as any.

She forced a smile and tried to move past him.

Pegasus stayed where he was, blocking her path. “Maybe you could tell me…”

All she had to do was take a step back, but she merely stood there, letting him take her hand.

“You’re not messing with me? You don’t remember what happened?” She focused on breathing—and did her voice just waver?

“Some of it.” There was no trace of humor in his tone. “Almost like a dream.” His fingers trailed up and down her arm in a caress.

He brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, thumb lingering against her cheek, an all too familiar reminder of the soothing motion he had traced along her wrist sometime in a previous life.

He smiled, closer still. “I was hoping this part was real.”

His lips pressed softly against hers, a brief contrast with the intensity of the previous night until past and present merged when he pulled her into his arms.

It felt wonderful for a moment or two—she couldn’t be sure how many seconds had truly passed—and then her world came crashing down.

Untethered from any identifiable cause, terror, grief, and a sickening feeling that had no business invading that moment assaulted her, almost tearing her apart in agony. Struggling for air and reason, she shoved him away more forcefully than would have been required, surprising herself as much as him.

He released her immediately, a startled look on his face which mirrored to perfection how she felt. There had been no need for that. He hadn’t done anything she hadn’t wanted him to. Sarah stared at him, a stilted apology still stuck in her throat along with whatever was squeezing her insides.

“I—” He swallowed whatever else he would have said. There was a trace of sadness behind the surprise in his eyes, then he looked away. His reluctance caught her off guard more than anything. She couldn’t remember ever having seen him that way, so unsure, no trace of amusement or mischief, nothing even close to a smile.

“Sorry. I’ll go.” He darted out the door before she had a chance to say anything.

Not that she knew what she would say.

And then it was too late.

Sarah backed away until she reached the wall. She leaned against it, glad for the support, trying to remember how breathing was supposed to work—something about air.

He’d kissed her again.

She smiled despite herself, the smile turning to a grimace the next second. She’d literally pushed him away.

* * *

Pegasus forced himself to let go of the door handle and walk away from the repository.

What the hell had he been thinking?

He really had gone to apologize, but then the memory became clearer.

Idiot.

It’s not as if he were surprised by his own feelings—he’d known it for a while now. He had, however, thought he’d decided not to act on it.

Well, it was too late now. Idiot. He’d made a mess of things.

It was a bad sign that he got himself into trouble whenever he did what he wanted to do instead of what he should do. Maybe he was selfish and didn’t know it.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been surprised—and confused—by Sarah’s reaction.

She hadn’t acted angry at him, and he hadn’t imagined that she’d kissed him back. Still, the way she pushed him away should leave no doubt of her feelings on the matter.

And yet he thought she— He shook his head. Maybe he’d been wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time.

He could apologize later for the… misunderstanding, and maybe irrevocably damaging their friendship, as well as also making a complete fool of himself.

Speaking of which, there was another apology he should go make. He sighed, a resigned sort of sound if ever there was one. Some part of him had mended enough for that. The only things left there were pain and anger and maybe it was time to let those go as well.

He wasn’t surprised to find Scorpion in the game room, beating up a punching bag. She was the only one there.

She stopped when she saw him approaching and started taking off her gloves. He figured that was a good sign, she would’ve kept them on if she intended to hit him.

Catching his thoughts, she pointed at his bandage. “Doc won’t forgive me if I mess up his work.”

“I’m sorry.” Better get straight to the point. “I don’t want to keep fighting. It was long enough ago, I should be over it by now.”

The carefully worded sentence was as much of an apology as he could muster, but his words didn’t have the desired effect. They only made her angrier.

“You know, you can give up the act. Stop pretending you’re some kind of saint and I was the only one who screwed up.”

“You broke my heart on purpose.” He shrugged his good shoulder. “How was that my fault?”

“I know about you and Robyn!” she exploded.

Had he hit his head when he got out of bed this morning? “What the hell are you talking about?”

She looked around as if only then remembering to check if they were alone. “I wasn’t going to say anything after she died,” she said through clenched teeth. “She told me.”

“And you people say I don’t make sense.”

She scowled at him. “She told me about you and her. While we were still together.”

“Did you get a brain injury while I wasn’t looking?”

“Stop! Just—”

“Nothing ever happened between me and Robyn.” He stopped, finally seeing everything in a new light. “Is that why you were so mad at me? Why you’re still so mad at me?”

Scorpion narrowed her gaze on him. “You’re saying nothing happened?”

“She sucker punched me that one time I made you cry, but I doubt that was foreplay.”

Scorpion struggled, visibly confused. “Then why did she lie?”

“When was this?”

“Right after we broke up.”

Pegasus wasn’t sure if he should laugh. Leave it to Robyn to make such a giant mess while trying to help him.

“You told her then. About what I said to you. What I did.”

“I wasn’t going to, but she saw you and Lion on the cameras. Besides, did you ever try not telling her something she wanted to know?”

Scorpion conceded his point with a sigh. Robyn had been nothing if not difficult when she put her mind to it.

“She was getting back at me?” Scorpion asked. “And then she died before she could come clean?”

Pegasus nodded, though he doubted Robyn would ever have told the truth unless she’d been forced to.

Scorpion sat down on the bench, gaze far away as if re-examining everything. She clasped a hand over her mouth, wide eyes staring up at him. “I was so angry at the two of you, and then she was dead, and I focused it all on you. Because maybe, if none of it had happened, I would’ve still been close to her and… maybe something would have been different. I might’ve noticed the switch.”

Pegasus took a seat, placing an arm around her. “It wouldn’t have changed anything. She would’ve still been dead.”

For the first time since going their separate ways, she didn’t shrink away from his touch.

“I’m sorry I was so horrible to you.”

He released a deep breath, letting it draw out all the dark thoughts that had been festering within him this whole time. An odd chuckle escaped him. “How did it get to this, Belle?”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, wiping at her eyes. “You disobeyed orders.”

“What was I supposed to do? Let you die?”

“You were supposed to follow orders.”

He shook his head. “Some orders can’t be followed.”

Scorpion laughed. “I’m always amazed you survived in the military.”

“I wasn’t there long enough. I don’t think they noticed.”

Silence prolonged itself again.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” she whispered. “I didn’t expect you to react so badly.”

“How’d you think I’d take it when I saw you with someone else?”

“I did feel bad about it, but then when Robyn said…” She shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I started thinking you deserved it. And now it’s done.”

“Yeah, now it’s done.”

They sat that way for the longest time, in silence at first.

And then they talked, really talked, about everything and nothing in particular, like they hadn’t in over a year. It was like encountering a long-lost friend.

Slowly, they found their way back to old jokes and common ground. And when it was time to go back to the real world, they found something they’d been so badly missing all that time—an understanding.