When the petal had slowly been crushed and he had his first taste of paradise; Hunter knew he was lost. Nothing in any universe he'd dipped more than a toe into held the same exquisite knowledge that this petal gave him. Juices leaked over his tongue tasting of roses-of possibility.

Prairie, and not Prairie; the woman in the glimpse he caught from that first taste was his. Every version of her could (and if he had his way, would) be his to hold and cherish. Hunter wanted nothing more than to see the visions come to fruition.

If all went to plan however; she would be his (kind of) much sooner than even she realized.

The bodies in the water held meaning to her more than him. He knew that by showing her; he would be breaking down that trust even more. It was necessary though. Necessary to show her the truth, the genius behind his secret project. Scott, Rachel, Dr Roberts? As long as Homer stayed away and Dr Roberts refused to open his mind to all he was being told, Hunter's plan was foolproof. Nobody mattered anymore.

Nobody but he and his angel.

Elodie had been an unexpected (though not unwelcome) development. The sex was fine; the knowledge much better.

Machines! A fascinating leap in a direction he'd never be so bold to think of himself. But that was the beauty of an intelligence and curiosity like his-all it took was a hint of something new to help kick him into gear.

There was a sense of accomplishment and thrumming excitement as he stepped back to see the completed large, mechanical cubes in the courtyard. It had taken both no time at all and entirely too long for his lifesize replica of Elodie's little travel set. Anyone would be impressed with his speed in building them, but all Hunter could think was that every moment longer is time for her to vanish or learn enough to be his downfall.

And then she was there!

His angel dressed in white, her perfectly tailored pantsuit ironed and pristine. Her beautiful blonde hair, so much longer in this universe, cascaded over one shoulder of her suit jacket. God. Hunter hated the way he could feel his heart lurch at the sight of her. He gazed at the security camera feed on the screen; drinking in her appearance like a man dying of thirst.

Prairie.

Or Nina as she was calling herself.

Maybe it was Nina.

Hunter knew it would be dangerous to assume that he knew exactly what was happening. It was just the confidence in what he had planned that allowed the calm to flow over him like a wave. Even if it were Nina she would likely be cast aside in favor of Prairie once he finally revealed his map.

It was unlikely that Prairie would allow such an important discovery go without making sure she was available to counter it. Except that he knew this time there was nothing she could do. That his final surprise would take her plan and twist it into an unworkable mess.

Her face which had been hidden behind Miss Azarova's steely eyed facade - opened itself up like a book asking to be read. Hunter could see the confusion, could sense the uncertainty and slowly growing concern as she tried to make sense of what was happening before her eyes.

Elodie's much larger travel counterparts were twisting and jerking in the robotic equivalent of the moves that Prairie had opened his mind to. They moved as one in the rising wind, dancing to a song from the universe they would never feel as deeply as he, Hunter and his angel felt.

Beneath the blinding exterior security lights bolted to the walls of the courtyard; Hunter watched with naked (and triumphant) longing as she recognized the movements she and the others had been gifted.

And then Dr. Roberts was there except that, no it wasn't Dr. Roberts; Hunter realized as Homer's fist crunched into his face with a thud that resonated through his entire body.

Fucking. Homer. Arriving at the last minute to save the day.

The gun had been tucked into his belt beneath his shirt. Prepared. Ready for any occasion that might call for it.

BANG!

Her face twisted in exquisite agony and he soaked it in. At once she dropped too, her hands reaching for a man she was convinced she loved. A man that Hunter had, unknowingly introduced into her life.

A man who was no longer a problem.

As she rose first to her feet from where she had been attending to the usurper of her heart, and then continued ascending-Hunter couldn't breathe. Her hair, her suit her pale, perfect skin glowed in the moonlight. Ethereal.

The wind grew stronger.

The world shrank away.

Between one thought and the next, he blinked and then he was surrounded by people. The night sky had solidified into harsh beams and panels. The structure of a fake house stood in front of them where the clinic should be.

They'd made it!

And then she fell.

Screaming. Chaos. Hunter swallowed down his excitement and rushed to his angel's aid where she'd landed, her head cracking against the floor of the television set they'd traveled to. He grasped a tv her beautiful hair and was momentarily shocked when it revealed itself as a wig. Underneath it her blonde locks cropped much shorter than he'd ever seen it. And it was stained red with her blood.

She would live. She had to.

It was not up for question.

Finally the paramedics arrived with an ambulance and he watched as his most invaluable (and dangerous) discovery was moved to the gurney.

They stopped him as he went to join her on the trip to the emergency room. They questioned him his right to accompany her.

He spoke a name that was not his own, and then said,

"She's my wife."

And then as soon as they crowded him, they melted away allowing him entrance.

His wife.

His.

And oh how right it felt as the words settled into his heart like ink settling into paper. Or a disease.

The softness of her skin beneath his fingertips as he gently stroked the hand of hers he was holding. Her face open in her state of unconsciousness. There were no secrets hiding beneath her eyes as dark circles; no ulterior motives disguised as a knowing smirk. Peaceful, she looked peaceful.

A peace that was shattered with the backdoor of the ambulance being flung open. The man leaped inside and slammed it shut behind himself, his attention focused mainly on her. Hunter felt the jealousy bubbling up inside him, fighting to get out. He contained it, centered it in the back of his mind - ready to draw on as soon as she was whisked away by the hospital staff.

The boy was familiar though unknown as a factor. Hunter could see Prairie, knelt down desperately dragging the boy out of his map. Could see the concern, the hurt at finding him in such a state.

He felt uneasy.

He ignored it.

"Hello Hap."

And the war raged on.