Fiona slides low into her seat while Abin uses the gas station bathroom. After everything that happened at the farm, they've been keeping an even lower profile than usual.

Something about the way that Lieutenant and the way they'd looked at Fiona... she can't shake it off, but she isn't sure if it's because they'd been so close to government officials, the very people that Fiona's mother had always been so against. Technically, there's no record of Fiona ever having been a part of Left Behind. No one knows that she'd been at OP-PALINURUS. But it wouldn't take much digging to find out who she spent her childhood with, and Fiona didn't want to stick around with what they did with that information.

"Thank you for waiting," Abin says when he returns to the car, as though Fiona would do otherwise.

"No problem," she says, trying to catch his eye, but he's preoccupied with buckling himself in.

Abin hasn't spoken much since that night since they left the farm, and Fiona has a sinking feeling it has something to do with the two men in the stairwell. Fiona doesn't often choose to kill in combat, opting instead for shooting at feet or miscellaneous limbs, but there have been times that the situation's called for it. After the Second Civil War in 2033, when the government was well past learning to handle the climate crisis, most people became desensitized to killing. It doesn't make Fiona feel good so she tries not to think about it — and no one else ever does. But Abin...

Dusk has properly settled upon them as they've continued to drive through Nevada, and it takes a while for Fiona to see it. But finally, the vague shapes take hold, and Fiona sees the familiar skeleton of a roller coaster through the muggy glass of the dome.

She remembers the exhilaration of cold air whipping against her cheeks when she first started going to this park. As a new immigrant from Korea, which was already falling from climate disasters, Fiona had thought that she'd never tasted anything as fresh as American air. But when the smog got bad here, too, they installed a dome so that people didn't have to wear their Sheltersuit helmets in the park. It wasn't quite the same after that.

"We used to go there," Fiona says eventually, pointing it out to Abin. "My mother would bring me, Shailene, and Evie during the summers. When we first got to America."

"What is it?"

Fiona opens her mouth to explain, in terms that he would know, but she's struck again with the realization of what different lives they've led. Maybe it's all the driving or plain delirium, but Fiona suddenly peels off the highway. "It's better if I show you," she finally says.

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The roads to the amusement park are in desperate need of maintenance and clearly haven't been used in decades, but they make it through eventually. Fiona parks in the weeded-over parking lot, barreling past the empty ticketing booth.

Despite the rusting parts and overgrown greenery, the amusement park looks more or less like Fiona remembers. She can almost hear Shailene yelling, weaving in and out of the crowds as they play a silly game of tag. Fiona's mother would scream until they returned, and Fiona always pretended she was just some random stranger with anger issues. With a pang, Fiona wonders what her mother would say, seeing her running away from Left Behind right now.

"Is this... a factory?" Abin asks, trying to make sense of all of the looming mechanics. He'd only learnt what factories were in his first week at Left Behind, and is clearly having some trouble nailing down what it is exactly.

"It's a place where children are supposed to have fun," Fiona says, trying to keep her voice upbeat. "I guess this one's just been abandoned."

Abin frowns, taking in all the decrepit junk around them. "Master Ji-ham says all children need for fun is inner peace."

Fiona pauses. "Master Ji-ham sounds like no fun."

They find a row of abandoned food trucks, all of which have rusty kitchen supplies or moldy food. There are rat droppings but no rats, likely deterred by the lack of life and sustenance in the entire park. There are carts for "Jimmy's hot dogs" or "Dexter's pretzels" and no hot dogs or pretzels to be found. The sky is a smog of gray above them, barely illuminating the abandoned trucks.

After a while of opening random drawers and cupboards, they finally find some packaged donuts that are clearly made with every preservative in the world. Abin looks at the food suspiciously, but it's the first solid food they've been able to find since the incident at the farm. Being on the run mostly means microwave oatmeal or powdered mashed potatoes.

They find a bench and sit in silence, save for the sounds of plastic crinkling and quiet munching. Fiona wonders what Abin is thinking about — she's never been able to crack his silence, to understand what exactly he's thinking about. Reciting mantras? Praying? Or maybe judging her for her clear lack of direction and penchant for getting them into trouble?

"Do you see me differently now?" Fiona asks suddenly, the question pouring itself out and revealing all of her ugly insecurities.

A beat.

"Why would I?" Abin asks, mouth full with a dusting of powdered sugar on his cheekbone.

Fiona's cheeks redden at having to say it all out loud. "After I... pushed those men down the stairs. When we were at the farm. I don't usually– well, it doesn't matter. They were real people and I... I killed them."

Abin stops chewing, frowning at her. His silver hair ruffles in the breeze. "They were trying to kill us first, Fiona."

"I know, but–"

"Don't get all sanctimonious. You did nothing wrong. They tried to kill you so you defended yourself and what's done is done." Abin takes another bite of the donut and toes the ground with his shoes.

His tone is sharper than usual and Fiona looks away. There's the moody Abin that she first met. But she thought that they'd become friends and that his guard has seemed to lower lately. Maybe... maybe that was all in her head. After all, Fiona is the type to do that — exaggerate little glances, overanalyze certain words, see signs where there aren't any.

Abin kicks a piece of gravel after a period of silence. "I'm sorry. You just... you're nothing like me. You don't know what I've done."

Fiona scoffs, kind of tired of this mystery act. "Then enlighten me."

"I killed Master Ji-ham."

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"What?" Fiona looks up sharply, shocked. "I thought you said he was your mentor–"

"My mentor, my role model, my hero, I know." Abin still looks away from her, his tone slightly angry. "You don't have to tell me I'm a monster. I already know."

"No– that's not what I–"

"It's how I ended up here," Abin says, his voice shaky. "It all happened so quickly. We were– we were training in the clearing, where we always practice. He always told me that my unconventional techniques were interesting, but I couldn't master them without understanding the basics." He fiddles with the edge of his sleeve, as though trying to remember where he is. "I thought wearing the scrolls would be interesting, that he would be excited. But there was an overflow of ki, of energy, and everything was like a storm. I couldn't see anything, except images from the day I was born to that very moment in that clearing."

Fiona opens her mouth to say something, but Abin turns away even further.

"My whole life flashed before my eyes. And suddenly, Master Ji-ham was there, telling me that he could handle the overflow if I just handed it to him. That he had had a long life to live already. I was so stupid. So stupid. I had no idea what he meant at that moment. I just wanted the storm to stop. So I put my hand in his and the next thing I knew, I was standing over his dead body."

A heavy silence falls upon them and Abin sags in his seat. "And then you ended up here?"

Abin shakes his head. "No. I cried for a bit and paid my respects. But I felt this strange energy, like the ki hadn't quite left the clearing. When I turned around, there was a rift in the air. That's the only way I can explain it. A rift. And I stepped through and I met you soon after."

He finally looks up at her. Abin always looked tortured, with his disheveled hair and eyes full of unexplained grief, but Fiona could only now really see the storm in his eyes. There is unreadable pain, rage, and hatred. "It wasn't your fault," she finally says, softly. Instinctually, she leans forward and puts her hand on his leg. His eyes flicker to her hand, for just the barest of moments, but he doesn't move away.

Abin shakes his head again and laughs sardonically. "Sometimes I wonder if I knew. If I stepped into that rift because I knew I wouldn't have to face Gwan, Hu, Jin, and Yuha. My peers at the monastery. Ji-ham was like a father to them, too." He laughs once more, without any humor. "Or I wonder if this is all a bad dream. Maybe I really did let the ki overtake me and this is some version of hell."

Fiona laughs too, then. "I wouldn't be surprised if this was hell honestly."

Abin looks at her and his lips twitch into a small smile. "I thought you were the optimistic one determined to make this world a better place."

Fiona shrugs. "And I wouldn't have to hope for that, if this world wasn't such a hellhole."

Abin's smile fades and he looks back towards the ground. "Anyways, the long answer is, no, I don't see you any differently. You and I are not the same at all."

"I don't see you any differently, either," Fiona says, meaning it. Suddenly, she understands why every step he takes is laden with guilt. Why he is always the most silent in the room, why he was so eager to help Left Behind. Everything is driven by his grief.

"You should." His eyes flicker again, just as briefly, to her hand on his thigh.

Fiona gives his leg one last reassuring squeeze as his cheeks turn pink. She finally moves her hand away. "Well, I don't."

----------------------------------------

"You're afraid of heights."

Abin, who has been gripping onto the railing with white knuckles, looks up at Fiona. "Afraid? No, I am not afraid. I've just– I've never been this high up in the air before. My body is still getting accustomed to the altitude."

Fiona giggles as the cart swings slightly in the air, watching him jump. "That's a nice way of saying that you're scared of heights."

Abin grumbles, looking back down at his feet. "I just don't understand why someone would make this an attraction for children. Does inner peace just not suffice anymore?"

Fiona tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, reminiscing on ferris wheels, something that she'd never thought would disappear in her lifetime. In the distance, lights glimmer and cast shadows that dance along their faces. "It used to be a thing for couples. Girls would pretend to be afraid, the boy would put his arm around her, and then when their cart reaches the top, they kiss." She sighs dreamily. We Are Behind's failed operation had happened by the time Fiona reached adolescence. Her father and mother were both dead. She never got to experience those fairy tale kisses that she'd always seen in the old movies. Shailene always made fun of her for that. Ryan Gosling died five years ago, she'd say. Stop fangirling over some dead guy.

"I'm guessing I'm the girl in this situation?" Abin raises an eyebrow, as though daring her to say yes. The mood's lightened significantly since his reveal about how he got here, and it makes something in Fiona feel lighter too.

Fiona raises an eyebrow back. "Yes," she says, totally deadpan. Something compels her to throw her arm around him, and he jumps again as it jostles the cart. Fiona points to the vague distance. "This is where we would watch the sunset, if there still was a sunset."

"A true gentleman never touches a girl during the courting stage," Abin says, voice teetering on anxious as he watches their cart sway in the air.

Fiona snuggles up to him a bit more as a joke, but it sends her heart sprinting for whatever reason. In this position, her face is right up against his shoulder and only now can she truly tell how strong and comfortable his shoulders are. "In 2040 they do."

"I would push you off but I'm afraid that will send us hurtling towards our deaths," he says, still frozen in fear from the swaying.

"Don't lie," Fiona jokes and the air suddenly gets all-too-serious, way too fast.

"What did the sunsets look like?"

Abin's voice is quiet now, slightly rough, and Fiona doesn't dare to turn to her right to respond. "Don't you have sunsets too?"

"Yes, but I want to know what your sunsets are like."

Fiona swallows shallowly, trying to ignore her pounding heart and focus on the glimpses of memories in her mind. "It– it depends on the day." She closes her eyes, trying to imagine what the sky was like before it turned into a dull expanse of monotone behind the smog. "I always thought the sun looked like an egg yolk, when the way it streaked into the horizon and melted away. And when there were colors you wouldn't expect, like pinks or purples, and you'd try to take a picture but it never looked quite the same on your phone..."

"So beautiful," Abin murmurs, which prompts Fiona to finally turn towards him. He's staring right at her, and the tip of his nose turns pink when her gaze lands on him. "Your description, I mean."

But he doesn't turn away and neither does she. She's hyper aware of his sharp jaw as he swallows and the bob in his throat as he breathes. All too suddenly, it's like they're standing in that garden again and they're millimeters apart. He's not touching her at all, but Fiona still feels the heat from his gaze spread all over her body, warming her face. She opens her mouth to say something and his lilac eyes drop to her lips.

"Just my description?" she finally says, barely breathing.

Fiona doesn't know what gets into her. Maybe it's the strangeness of re-exploring a childhood memory, without any of the people she shares them with. Maybe it's the stuffy, artificial air of the dome and her nostalgia for the way her face felt in the wind. Maybe it's because she never got to live that normal teenager life, kissing boys atop ferris wheels in a sunset that no longer exists.

No matter what the reason is, Fiona finds herself leaning in, closer and closer to Abin, until she can smell the lemon soap that they got from the drugstore. She can see the small mole in the corner of his eye. She lets out a soft sigh as her eyes close slowly—

"What– what are you doing?"

Abin's gruff voice breaks whatever trance has taken hold of Fiona and she snaps back, cheeks burning in absolute humiliation. He blinks widely at her, not looking angry but exceptionally and utterly confused.

"I– er," Fiona stammers, pretending there's something really important in her pockets as she fumbles around for the car keys. Oh. God. She had misinterpreted everything. As normal and as young-looking he looks, he's still a wannabe-monk from the 16th century. What is wrong with her? She clears her throat, trying to sound the least frazzled as possible. "I think it's time that we get back on the road."

Abin doesn't say anything for a moment and she can feel his gaze burning a hole into the top of her head. "Fiona..."

She clicks the button that she'd hooked up to the ride's control station to let them down. "When we get to Sacramento, we need to find a place to live," Fiona says, trying to switch the topic. "It'll need to be with one of the underground gangs and it probably won't be the nicest place but when have I ever lived anywhere nice–"

Abin's hand shoots out and grabs her by the wrist. "Why don't we stay here for a bit more?" He looks unsure of himself, and eventually drops his hand. "I didn't mean it like that, I just never–"

"It's okay," Fiona says with a forced smile. "We really should get back to it, now that I'm thinking about it."

Abin looks like he wants to say more but she turns back to the endless smog ahead of them. They ride to the bottom in resolute silence.