- Chapter One -

xXxXx

It was one of the hottest days anyone had ever seen. Trade was halted and all travel was postponed. Weathered, groaning rocking chairs were dragged outside and children retreated to the futile shade of tall elms and oaks. The haze hung in the sky for miles and miles, and all the shops closed.

He was too young to remember yet as his mother rocked him gently on her hip, singing and swaying across the kitchen in front of the fan. He giggled with delight as her gleaming green eyes shone out against her pale face and the loose threads of blonde swayed against her cheekbones. He wouldn't remember that he grabbed her arm with his little hand and began to chew on the heel of her palm. Teething did little to dampen his moods, but it had resulted in an array of bruises on the petite woman's arms that would refuse to fade for weeks.

Her voice faltered as her eyes broke from his, wandering to the figure that thudded conspicuously over the linoleum.

His smile faded as she heaved him over to the door, the lilting ring leaving her voice as she began to speak. Something timid and gentle that was combatted by the booming voice of the bigger creature who was already halfway across the threshold.

A spark of discomfort that pierced the fogginess of the heat.

His eyes left the huge form as it turned and strode out the door, his interest suddenly waning in that loud man whose moods swayed from boisterous joy to condescension as quickly as the wind could toss low clouds across the sky. He reached about, wanting his mother's hand again. His jaw was sore and he needed something to gnaw on.

They said that it was a damn good idea. Nobody would have believed that a strike had been planned just so it would coincide with the excruciating beating of the sun and the insurmountable thickness of the humidity. And it was unanimously agreed upon that it was the very best of luck that the Hawks were a stubborn band who refused to be outdone, even by Mother Nature herself.

Otherwise, as grandpas would whisper for years afterward, the eyes of the little ones wide as they clustered around and held their breaths, nobody would have been there to stop the greatest organized attack against the free Atmos in all of recorded history.

xXxXx

"You're growing up, aren't you?"

"Na dah," he replied simply, waving a hand before the man's face. He laughed, grabbing the child's small fingers gently. Aerrow's tiny digits squirmed of their own accord before finally wrapping around his index finger and holding onto it.

"Na dah, huh?"

"Na dah," the little child corrected. Ace laughed again.

"Oh, I see. My mistake." The little boy put his thumb in his mouth and smiled.

"Aerrow!"

The child and Ace looked up. Across the room, Aaron waved at his son. Aerrow squirmed in Ace's grasp, and the man bounced the little boy. "You want down, little man?"

Aerrow responded in a jumble of syllables that seemed to make perfect sense to him. The man smiled in awe, blue eyes flicking between both of the child's.

"Aerrow," called the sky knight again. Ace looked up, and Aaron met his eyes for a brief moment, a flash of disgust flashing across his face. The blue-eyed man leaned over and deposited the toddler on the ground. The little head of red hair bobbed over to the burly man and his cohorts. Aaron said something and hoisted his son off the ground roughly, and the group laughed loudly. Ace's mouth pulled back in an almost imperceptible sneer before he turned and strode out of the room and down the hall.

A small black silhouette cut a chunk of the sunset away at the open door. Hesitating, he stood still in deliberation. Making his decision, he took a step toward it.

"Hi there," he said softly, smiling a little as he stepped outside.

"Oh. Hi." She ran a hand through her hair, collecting herself as he walked around to lean against the small house at her side. "Having a good time?"

"Yes," he lied. "Are you?"

She rotated her slender wrist slowly, making the wine in her glass swirl around the cup. She looked down and nodded.

"Come on," he said softly, putting his finger under her chin and raising it up a little. "Are you?"

Laughing and brushing his hand away, she sighed. "Yes. I am." She fixed him with her pale eyes and smiled. They twinkled in the fading light.

"Good."

The man exhaled, staring up at the appearing stars. The sky was wiped with black and blue, and pink and violet streaked across its bruises.

"Aerrow's growing up."

"He's bigger every day," she agreed. "I'm so proud of him."

"He's intelligent, too." Ace chuckled softly, the cold wind ruffling through his bangs. "It's great being a babysitter. I almost feel like he's my own son."

"Ace…" The blonde rocked forward, balancing on her own feet and walking a few paces into the grass.

"I'm sorry," he hastily muttered. "I just mean he's like family to me. He's a wonderful kid."

Nadia turned and blinked at him. He scratched the back of his neck and cleared his throat.

"Aaron seems a little drunk," the copilot murmured, the warmth gone from his voice. "Do you want me to bring Aerrow out here?"

"Ace, please."

"What?" he demanded.

"Don't. Just don't…"

"What?"

"It's my anniversary. Can't you just be happy for me? Is that too much to ask?" Her voice was rising with her desperation.

"Aerrow shouldn't be in there with him while he's drunk."

"He's celebrating. He saved an entire terra today."

"I saved him! I killed that general, Nadia. And he took credit for it."

"You had your chance, Ace!"

He closed his mouth, staring down at her in defiance. She glared up at him, eyes just as hardened.

"It's over. You can either be happy for me and remember your squadron comes before your jealousy, or you'd better stay away from my son and stop using him to get on my good side. You had your chance."

A long second passed, his eyes flicking between both of hers, searching for any sign that her words were forced. He let off a short breath and looked at the ground between them.

And walked away.

Swallowing, Nadia watched as he turned gradually to shadow and shrunk into the darkness. The sound of the crickets disappeared beneath the roar of his skimmer, and her stare followed the shape of it until it vanished through the clouds.

xXxXx

The bartender eyed him worriedly as he lifted the glass and downed it, flinching at the burn as it washed the walls of his throat. The crack when he slammed the glass down on the counter made her flinch. He'd break the next one for sure, she thought. And if not that one, the one after it.

The dull roar of laughter rose, and somebody shouted something in a merry, weary voice. The doors creaked and footsteps sounded on the doorstep before melting away into the din. Greetings rose up high out of the low, guttural chorus of noises, and still sober voices called back. Ace motioned the bartender over, and began talking over her the minute she advised him he'd better quit before she had a dead guy on her property and her conscience. Their voices rose and rose until he snapped his mouth shut and glared into her eyes, and she finally surrendered, grabbing two of his empty cups to toss in the sink before making her way back with a full one.

A black cloak seated itself on the stool beside him.

Ace rested his head on his hand, running his long fingers through his hair and blinking back the stubborn tears that kept blurring his already fuzzy gaze. The person beside him set his elbow on the counter, and Ace glared up at him, expecting a victimizing joke.

Two dark sapphire eyes gleamed at him from under the hood.

"What do you want?" His sneer dissipated at the wide, seemingly fearful look of the eyes, but his demand was still just as sharp.

"I'm sorry," the figure muttered back.

He blinked.

The person concealed by the cloak was a woman.

"Just stop looking at me," he uttered, looking down the opposite side of the bar. The dim lights shone off the marble of the counter.

"What's wrong?"

"I said leave me alone." He turned back to her, eyes icy and a sneer pulling his mouth open to reveal a flash of his teeth.

"But you've been crying," she protested, and put a hand on his arm. He stared down at the huge, shimmering ring on it in surprise.

"What the hell are you? A freaking carrier designer?"

When she didn't reply, he looked up at her. "I'm wealthy," she finally said. "But I'm far from rich."

Deciding groggily that it was some stupid, purposefully cryptic answer, he rolled his eyes and faced forward again.

"Are you all right?"

Enraged, he whirled around. "YES, I'M FINE, NOW WOULD YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?"

Startled, she jerked back, the hood falling around her shoulders.

Ace's eyes went wide.

She stared at him, plum-colored eyes huge with fear. A dark, ugly bruise crawled from the back of her neck over her face, disappearing into her dark hair. A strand slid out from behind her ear. It glimmered in the light.

"Sorry," she said in barely a whisper. She slid off the stool and turned toward the door.

"No, wait." He caught her wrist. She turned back to him, startled. "I didn't mean it."

"Don't hurt me," she pleaded.

"I won't, I'm sorry." He let go of her wrist. "Why would somebody … you're so-" he broke off and pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, nothing. Never mind."

She lowered her delicate frame onto the seat beside him once more, pulling the hood over head. "Please tell me why you were crying."

Letting off a breath of exasperation, he turned back to the counter and rested his elbows on it. "I don't want to talk about it." He sniffed a disgusting, snot-filled sniff. He ground his teeth together in frustration as his pupils swam through sudden tears. She rested her palm on his shoulder, and the coldness of her fingers penetrated the leather of his shirt.

He looked back at her, now able to make out the line of her face within the shadow of the hood. She was watching him, pupils huge and expression one of simple sadness.

She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Who beat you? A brother? Your husband?"

"Please don't," she murmured. "I'm escaping him for a night. I don't want to think about it."

"Does it hurt?" He was already reaching toward her face, and when she flinched away he got his answer. Her face twisted for a split second before she regained control of it; an expression so grief-filled it wrenched his stomach.

"I have nothing," she rasped, and a shimmery line appeared down her face. "I thought I'd have everything. But I'm worthless." Another tear streaked down her cheek as she gazed at him. The hopelessness in her eyes was so deep, so empty, that it terrified him.

"No you aren't," he whispered back.

"Yes I am," she said, voice cracking as she leaned over and sobbed.

Anger filled him and he reached up with both hands, cupping her face between them. "No you're not!"

Sobbing again, she looked up at him timidly. He clumsily wiped the tears off her unbruised cheek with his thumb. "Don't cry," he mumbled. "Please don't cry."

"He hates me," she whispered. "He's angry at me for even being alive."

"Don't think about him," Ace said, and when she fell against his chest he wrapped his arms around her small frame. "It's okay. Don't worry, I'm here. It's gonna be okay."

She turned her face up to him, her hood falling around her shoulders. He put a hand on the back of her head, fingertips disappearing into her thick, wavy hair.

"I'll keep you safe," he whispered, taking the hand out of her hair and resting it against her face.

"Do you promise?"

He had no time to answer. She pressed her lips to his, gripping his narrow shoulders.

He had no choice but to wrap his arms around her. His own tears finally escaped his eyes when he closed them, clutching her.

She pulled back and buried her face in his shirt. She gripped him until his skin hurt where her nails dug in. He closed his eyes and rested his chin on the top of her head, still holding her to his chest.

Finally, he collected his thoughts long enough to speak. He rested his fingers over the back of her head once more, bringing his lips down so she could hear him over the rumble of voices.

"I know I can't save you. But if, for one night, you felt loved, would it make it hurt any less?" She turned her eyes back up at him, sobbing once more.

Her lips pressing into his again was his answer.