Ten Years
Everything happened for a reason.
She didn't follow news sites, watch TV or read the papers. If the Universe ran on pure chance, as the scientists claimed, she would've remained blissfully unaware of the news. But she knew immediately that she learned about it for a reason, not because of simple randomness. There were no accidents in this plane of existence. No flukes, no serendipity.
Everything happened for a reason. She believed it with all her heart, all her soul, all her being.
She had to; if she acknowledged the impersonal, chaotic haphazardness of Nature it would tear her apart and drive her insane.
She exited the portal and stepped on the roof of the Tower. At first glance it was almost unchanged, except for the thick carpet of dust blown over by the wind and mixed with bird excrement, then churned and transformed by rainwater into an oily, clayish muck that covered everything. Ventilation ducts, half-eaten by rust, poked through it like the fingers of a corpse; cracked, pitted and decaying.
She floated to the edge of the roof and looked below. The heavy construction machinery was already in place, ready to begin the demolition announced for tomorrow. She expanded her empathic sense but could not detect any other human being on the small island.
That was good. She was not in the mood for company.
The mantra whispering softly through her lips, she phased down into the remains of the Ops room. Her eyes hardened; the appearance here was not so much one of decay, but rather one of a place thoroughly ransacked and then left to the mercy of the elements. Everything that may have had any value was torn out and looted; the furniture, the wiring, the electronics, the doors, the window glass. Even the metallic bulkheads on the walls were removed and taken away, leaving the naked concrete to unsuccessfully fight off lichen and fungus spreading over it in dark, stinking stains.
Several box-like items laid scattered on the floor. She smiled bitterly; they were CRT monitors, most of them broken. Once expensive pieces of equipment, now they were obsolete to the point that any attempt at salvaging them was uneconomic.
She crouched in front of one, noticing a small, heart-shaped bulge on its dusty edge. Her breath quickened and her hand went for it without conscious thought, wiping away the years of grime that hid its coloring. It was pink; a heart-shaped sticker pasted to the bezel beside the glass.
Only one of them would ever stick spongy pink hearts on a monitor's bezel.
The wish to scream and cry and weep and let it all out was overwhelming for a moment, but she fought it with clenched jaw and cramped fists. She took deep breaths to calm herself, then used her power to gently peel off the small token from the casing. Her hand closed over it as she lifted her head and straightened up, then floated through a yawning side doorway towards her room.
It was empty. She stood in the middle of it, taking in the void window frames and the accumulation of debris and birdshit below them.
There was nothing to see or feel here. Not even the ghosts of the years of her presence. She was about to turn around and leave when she felt someone… someone familiar. Wings flapped behind her as he landed. An almost inaudible crack of the weakened floor followed the increase in weight as he transformed into himself.
"I sensed you as soon as I arrived," he said softly. "Came here to say goodbye, too?"
She remained silent. He shifted his weight, opened his mouth, closed it. She could almost smile at how familiar it all was.
If only it didn't hurt so much.
He took a step towards the center of the room. "Y'know, I can still smell the incense. It's permeating the walls."
Still she refused to say anything. His hand rose and touched her shoulder. "The room… it still smells of you."
She shrank from his touch, turned around and floated out, her hood up, her eyes avoiding him. She levitated back down the hallway and towards the Ops room, the hem of her cloak brushing through the dust and debris without picking any stains.
Magic was so convenient for small things.
He followed her on catlike feet, his breathing silent and regular, his emotions flooding her in spite of the fact that he had finally learned to control them and deal with them.
It was as fine an accomplishment as one could wish for, but it came way too late.
Floating back into the Ops room, she released the levitation and stood in front of the huge hole that used to be the panoramic window. Her eyes sought the horizon, her face expressionless, her lips silent.
He stood beside and a little behind her. His hand went to rub the back of his head; an old mannerism he never got rid of.
"Rae… I know I fucked up. Believe me, if there's anything I could do to mend it or fix it or take it back to how it was before, I'd do it. But the only thing I can do is say I'm sorry. I really am."
"I know, Gar," she finally spoke. "I have forgiven you a long time ago." Her head turned and she gazed into his eyes. "But I will never forget."
He looked down. "I loved you," he whispered.
"You still do," she replied mercilessly. "Or are you going to tell me that any of those skinny blondes you're seeing has lasted more than two weeks?"
She saw the pain in his eyes and sighed. "I should go." A pale hand lifted and a black portal appeared. She turned to step through it.
"Rae?" his voice stopped her and made her look at him over her shoulder. He was wearing that same stupid grin, the one that used to make her heart beat faster, her breath quicken and her body heat up. Just like it did now.
"They were good times, right?"
She smiled. "The best."
She stepped through the portal and it vanished. He took a last look around, now seeing only crumbling debris, rot and decay. He shivered, shrank into a green seagull and flew away.