* * *

  Sarah watched as Pegasus went through all the pieces of paper, from the disconnected words saying smoke, fire, corridor, and explosion to the more detailed list of facts from the day he would have died.

  No. An involuntary shudder ran through her. The day he had died.

  But for a world apart, that had been him.

  He stopped at the center of all the chaos, staring at the bits and pieces that didn’t belong anywhere for sure. Some were represented by symbols and letters because she hadn’t wanted to write it down.

  He pointed at that section of the board. “And what’s this chaos?”

  “It’s the part that might have been actual dreams.”

  “What happens in those?”

  “Sometimes it seems like the rest. And maybe it is like the rest, maybe none of it is real and my mind is playing cruel tricks on me.” Sarah sighed. “Can we go back to the part where I wasn’t crazy?”

  “Was there such a part? I don’t remember that part.”

  Sarah resisted the urge to throw something at him, but having him treat it all the same way he treated everything else was oddly calming.

  He moved around, honing in on the random notes that represented the Foundation Day mishap. “What’s this one?” He tapped his finger on the note with Lore’s name on it.

  “I woke up and went to the Foundation Day party with Mermaid and Lore. Lore was here for some reason. We talked about some file I sent her by mistake. She said there might’ve been something relevant there, I think, or it might’ve been a typo, but she didn’t explain. Nothing really happened after that.” Nothing relevant anyway. “But that conversation with Lore and the entire party were probably not real.”

  “Why not? Was Scorpion juggling ice cream cones? Because that happened once.”

  She kept forgetting that none of these people were normal. “Robyn was there.”

  He turned to face her without a word.

  “Sometimes I wonder…” It was a stupid hope. She knew both versions of Robyn were dead. She knew it painfully well. But it all felt so real. It felt equally real with everything, even this moment, where Pegasus was watching her with worry. She looked away, uncomfortable being the sole object of his attention. “I know it couldn’t have been real, but I put it here in case there was something real mixed in. The dream changed halfway through, so it’s possible part was real. I don’t have a guidebook to these things.”

  “That would be nice to have.”

  “Never mind a guidebook. I’d settle for a transcript. You know how crappy my memory is.” She waved at the rest of the board. “It’s all in pieces, random words or feelings. And I can’t tell if it’s real or not.”

  “I think the more you fixate on this, the harder it’ll be to tell any dreams apart from anything else.”

  He touched a fingertip to one of the several question marks spread throughout the entire thing. There were too many of them, manifestations of her frustrations. Sometimes, when she closed her eyes, all she could see were floating words and question marks.

  And Pegasus had a point. She expected that the more she thought about what she’d seen, she’d also start having regular dreams that reproduced her own memories.

  “I’ve been thinking… I’ve never met Lore and I don’t know what she looks like. But since I saw her in my dream, would it be possible for me to see a photo of her? So I can confirm if that part of them dream was real or not.”

  “What did Lore look like in your dream?”

  “She was about my height, looked to be in her thirties. Short, light brown hair, cut in a shoulder-length bob. I didn’t notice her eye color. Does that sound about right?”

  Pegasus shrugged. “I don’t know what she looks like either. You don’t have the clearance for accessing personnel files from Center. It should be easy for me to get the permission, but given your current situation, I should run it by Zeus first. I’m sorry if it feels like I don’t trust you.”

  “I get it.” She couldn’t ask him to disregard precautions to avoid hurting her feelings. He was trying his best to be supportive of her and follow procedures. “It’s not like it hurts me to wait longer for some sort of confirmation.”

  “Speaking of confirmation…” The words looked like they tasted horribly coming out of his mouth. “Zeus was wondering if we’d be able to actively trigger one of your episodes. I’m sure he’s hoping for proof or even actionable information.”

  If she could get anything useful, it would serve as both proof and an advantage, wouldn’t it? But where would she even start? Sarah followed the trail of notes on her wall, stopping on an aerial shot of the department store and its surroundings. “How would we do it?”

  “I promised him I’d mention it to you, But I told him I don’t think we should be putting any additional pressure on you right now, so don’t worry about that.”

  “It’s okay. I want to know if it’s possible.”

  “Did you feel like there were any triggers before?”

  “Not really.” She pointed at the photo. “If we treat it like a memory, we could try jogging it with familiar places and things. But I’m under house arrest, so maybe watching the recording from that mission?”

  Pegasus followed her gaze, letting out a deep breath when he saw which part of the board she was looking at. “Will you be alright if you trigger that specific memory?”

  Good question. But that was her best bet. It was the clearest episode or vision or whatever they wanted to call it.

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  Whether it would trigger a vision of the other world or her memory of it, she wanted to try. “Do you have the footage from that mission?”

  “I can pull it up.” But he didn’t move.

  “I’m curious.” She was also terrified, but she wasn’t going to admit that part.

  “Alright.” Pegasus moved to her desk, sliding her notebook aside.

  Sarah walked over to her collage as he clicked and clacked away at her keyboard.

  If they did trigger a vision, would she find herself back on that rooftop, glare hitting her eyes when the clouds parted?

  “Do you have a clear view of the hostages?” Griffon’s voice sounded from the speakers.

  Her memory superimposed onto the photo, flashing in her mind.

  “Wait, shouldn’t there be at least four hostiles?” Mermaid asked.

  Sarah followed the streets in the photos, imagining the perimeter set up by the local police. Some things were the same. Some things were different.

  “I’ve got a runner.” The ominous words broke through in Pegasus’ voice. “Alley, north side.”

  “Anyone close by?” Griffon asked.

  Her eyes were drawn to the alley in the photo. She could still see him lying there as she looked down. Her mind added in the details of his lifeless face, blood pooling underneath his head.

  The persistent feeling returned, pressing down on her chest until she had to gasp for breath, fighting back tears.

  Of course Pegasus chose that moment to turn around. Sarah couldn’t see his face—she couldn’t look away from the photo, but his voice was grave. “Let’s stop.”

  She shook her head. “Sometimes it feels real.”

  A shot sounded, and she startled. She clutched at her chest as if she could rip out the pain that refused to be silenced.

  Pegasus stopped the recording, but in her mind, the rest of the shots followed, undisturbed.

  He moved to stand in front of her, blocking her view of her board.

  She wiped her cheeks, refusing to meet his gaze.

  “I’m sorry.” Pegasus reached out for her hand.

  “I just—I feel it as if it’s real. As if you’re dead.”

  “I’m still here.”

  “I know.” Having him there helped with separating the feeling from what she saw as real.

  This was real—right?

  Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around him. Part of her was afraid he’d vanish if she closed her eyes. “I’m really happy you’re not dead.”

  “So am I.” His laughter resonated against her.

  She loved his laugh. Warm arms enveloped her. He placed a kiss against her temple, then another over her cheekbone.

  Unbidden and unwanted, the memory of him and Scorpion came again, his arms around her as they laughed and swayed.

  She pulled away, disentangling herself from him as if there were an escape to be made.

  “Sarah, wait.” He held on to her hand. “What was that just now?” His voice was a little deeper, the way it always was when he truly was serious.

  “Nothing,” she whispered, wishing it were true.

  How could she tell him all the jealous and petty thoughts that filled her mind when she saw him hugging Scorpion?

  She hadn’t even thought about telling him her heart broke when she saw him dead. It was still breaking.

  Pegasus nodded to himself as if accepting her answer, but he had yet to let go of her hand. And she hadn’t let go of him either. She didn’t want to.

  “I’m sorry I crossed the line again.” That uncertainty she’d rarely seen was once again there as his eyes lowered to stare at their hands. “I know you’ve made your feelings on this—on us—pretty clear, but there’s something I have to say.”

  Stupefied, Sarah wondered which part he thought was clear; nothing had been clear to her for a very long time now.

  “I’ve been struggling to bring this up, and this is the farthest thing from the right moment.” He pointed behind him at the board. “I don’t know where all this is going or what’s happening. But I’m here for you, however you want me to be.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Please, let me say this.” He squeezed her hand, completely serious.

  She nodded, watching him struggle with his next words.

  “You asked for distance and I tried to respect that, sometimes poorly.” A fleeting smile vanished too quickly. “If I had died, I never would’ve been able to tell you how much I care. I’ve wanted to say something sooner, but I was being a bit of a fool and a bit of a coward.”

  “Coward is not the word that comes to mind when I think of you, but an argument could be made for fool.” Sarah forced a smile, but making light of his words did little to control the feelings they evoked.

  “I was afraid, I still am. Afraid of getting hurt, afraid that you’d start avoiding me again if I said what I wanted to.” He looked into her eyes. “It’s alright if you don’t think about me that way, but I wanted you to know I like you more than I can put into words.”

  Like a teenager talking to their crush for the first time, she wanted to hide her face in embarrassment. Gathering some courage of her own, she didn’t pull away.

  “When you died, I just couldn’t—” She couldn’t breathe, she wanted to say, but she choked on the words. She couldn’t describe how much it hurt. The intensity still frightened her. Thinking about it brought back an echo of that pain, and she squeezed his hand tight. “I thought I’d lost you and my heart broke,” she whispered, barely registering the words until he reacted to them.

  Startled for a second, he then laughed.

  Sarah lowered her head, wishing she could bury herself in the ground. She’d never said anything more than ‘I like you’ to anyone before. But she was sure laughter was not the ideal response. Disgruntled, she stepped back, trying to pull her hand free. “I’m pretty sure you’re more unbalanced than I am.”

  “Maybe.” Pegasus interlaced their fingers together, taking back the distance she’d gained.

  Sarah stood her ground, giving up on hiding. She didn’t want to run away. If she ran away, she might not be able to hold him ever again.

  Pegasus lowered his head, trying to make her look at him. “When we kissed, I thought there’d been something there. But then you pushed me away, and I figured I’d imagined it.” A smile spread along his lips, shining in his eyes. “I didn’t, did I?”

  Sarah shook her head.

  He took her other hand, his fingers tracing a familiar pattern along her palm. Whether intended for her benefit or his, it soothed her.

  The fear, that out-of-place reaction she’d attributed to his death, was nowhere to be found as she watched the movement of his thumb. “I’m sorry I pushed you away like that without an explanation.”

  “Was there—is there—someone else?” His voice was very quiet.

  “No.”

  “Can you tell me why then?”

  “There was this feeling. This horrible, agonizing feeling that came over me when you kissed me.” She realized what she’d actually said and panicked. “I think it was the fear and pain I felt when you died.”

  Pegasus said nothing, gaze drifting off to the distance before coming back to her. His thumb was now resting against her hand, motionless.

  Sarah edged closer to him. “It’s like the feelings are as out of place as the things I see.”

  He brought her hands to his chest. “And now?”

  A faint echo of pain showed itself, nothing more. “I think it’s gone. I hope it’s gone.”

  Mischief shone in his eyes again. “Shall we find out?”

  Sarah laughed.

  He took that as an encouragement and pulled her into his arms, a hand gently caressing her cheek. “Anything?”

  She shook her head.

  As if he were playing with her, he brushed his thumb against her lower lip, then placed a lingering kiss on her cheek.

  “Nothing,” she whispered. Nothing but her racing heart, that is.

  Pegasus seemed to take those words as a challenge rather than encouragement. Slowly, he leaned in towards her until their lips were almost touching. “Let me know if you’re uncomfortable.”

  “Okay,” she breathed out. She didn’t think she could have formed an actual sentence.

  Sarah braced herself for that horrible feeling to assault her again as he pressed his lips against hers in a tentative kiss. She returned the kiss, hoping to take advantage of the temporary reprieve. She might even learn to deal with it now that she knew what it was.

  Seconds turned to minutes, and the horrible feeling never came.

  Pegasus parted from her almost reluctantly, gazing into her eyes. “Anything?”

  Oh, lots of things.

  His grin told her she failed miserably to keep a straight face.

  “No fear,” she whispered, slightly embarrassed.

  “Good.” He kissed her again.

  When they parted, a seriousness had seeped into his expression. His fingers played with a strand of her hair, his thumb brushing against her cheek in a caress.

  She stilled under his touch. “What is it?”

  He blinked away the haze and looked down at her. “Sorry, I was thinking.”

  Sarah remembered Mermaid’s reaction in both dreams. “About how we’d be in trouble for being in a relationship?”

  “It’s a bit of added trouble.” His lips briefly touched hers, the familiar grin back in its place. “But you’re worth all the trouble in the world.”