3,4,5,6…–

Objectively nothing significant had changed. His involvement in catching a serial killer had only cemented his opinion that any strange occurrence could be explained away by base human cruelty and had nothing to do with anything supernatural. Still he quickened his steps, when he saw Agent French in front of the airport, suitcase still in hand.

Agent French –Belle!- smiled when she saw him and this time he actually didn't get startled at the gesture. Instead he gave her a curt nod. "Belle." The name tumbled off his tongue with barely any hesitation, despite its newness. Belle. He clenched his hands nervously, his palms wet.

"Nick", she replied, as if they had been friends for years and gestured to a waiting rental. "How was your flight?"

"All right", he answered shortly, distracted by the warmth that had spread through him at her use of his given name, only to hasten to continue when he finally noticed his tone and caught up to the social niceties. "And yours?" He winced at his own words. Too little, too late to cover his lack of any sort of basic social grace.

She simply had to have noticed, but she only continued cheerfully as always. "Wonderful. I had a window seat and the chance to go over our files again." She winked at him, before she turned around to heave her suitcase into the trunk of the car and before he in turn could remember to do the expected thing and protest, she'd put in his bag, too.

Slightly flustered he followed her lead as she climbed into the car. He looked from her to the window, thinking frantically of something to say, so she would speak to him again, say his name.

He winced. Back at home he had considered telling her about the chaos the renovation of the entry hall had caused at the university and this was no less pathetic. The agent, Belle, was just the sort of person that was always serene, but her cheerfulness didn't mean that she wanted to hear anecdote from his personal life. While Belle had become the one person he imagined talking about his everyday life with, he was simply someone she worked with and to whom she was kind because of her sunny demeanour. For a moment his utter loneliness choked him and he had to force himself to stay quiet and turn away. Slowly he went through the first ten prime numbers in his head, forcing himself to keep his breathing calm. He had no one.

A concerned voice, distracted him from the 15th one. "Nick, are you ok?" Rush turned around again, face carefully blank. His treacherous heart was hammering in his chest. Belle looked honestly concerned. Maybe, she even was. It was possible after all. She seemed to be a very caring person, so her worry might even be real. Even if he didn't truly matter to her in the grand scheme of things, it wouldn't be quite so pathetic to consider her a friend, if she cared at least a bit.

-Corn circles-

-Slaughtered cows-

-Strange lights in the night sky-

Absentmindedly Rush sipped at his coffee as he read through the latest file Belle had given him. Blurred photographs of lights against the night sky were strewn over an old newspaper and next to a case report he had taken notes in red ink on, as had become his habit. He frowned and rolled his pen between the mug-free fingers of his right hand.

The photographs were clearly fake, but if he wanted to have even a slight chance of convincing Belle of his explanation, he'd need well-founded arguments, because no matter how unbelievable her conclusions were, her arguments were always flawlessly logical – if one accepted certain parameters. Still deep in thought he grabbed the report of an eye-witness. Movements like the man described were simply impossible with an object of the UFOS claimed size. Yes, that had to be an angle even she couldn't simply dismiss…

Rush reached for a new page of his notebook and started to write down experimental equations, erased a parameter here, added a more exact number there. When he finally looked over his final result half an hour later he put his equation to the rest of the file, more than pleased with himself. Thoughtfully he went through the steps again in his mind and without thinking he took a page from the other stack on his desk.

The equation had been simple enough, a little demonstration on how the laws of physics couldn't be bended in certain ways, no matter how far developed an hypothetical alien-civilization was, but in the back of his mind, his thoughts had stayed with the powers that worked in the voids between the stars and he forced himself to think of nothing else, as he took his pen and continued a train of thought he had abandoned months ago.

Technically Rush had never stopped working at his desk- he had simply stopped being productive. On the left top corner of his desk an orderly stack with notes on his work had been sitting for the last few months. Sometimes he had spread them out before himself and tried to find the point, where the equations had started to slip from his fingers, but the longer he failed, the harder it was to gather the energy to go through them once again, only to have the numbers blur before his eyes again.

Still, while he might have never technically stopped working, he still couldn't believe it, when he finally looked down at the new hypothesis he had just finished. His eyes grew hot and he bit down hard on his lip in a desperate try to stop being so pathetic over a simple piece of math. He didn't quite manage. Tears ran down his cheeks even as he cursed himself.

His work, ideas that tried to breach the frontiers of their knowledge, that had been his whole life for the better part of his years, even then, when it probably shouldn't have been… Rush rubbed away the wet stain from his face, but he was smiling tiredly now.

After Gloria's death he had sunk in a desperate numbness. Nothing had made sense anymore, nothing seemed worth bothering – even his work. When he had finally put himself together again to function well enough to pass for normal, the apathy had stayed and it had been almost as if his heart had turned to ashes twice over.

Rush swallowed hard and pressed his hands over his mouth, to muffle the hysterical sobs, that bubbled up his throat. Maybe he wouldn't find the energy to work like this, like before, again for a long while and surely not with such ease, but at least he knew that he still could, that not everything was lost to him.

Slowly his breathing calmed again and Rush stroked lovingly over his new notes. He had already dialled half of Belle's number, when he stopped short. He couldn't just call Belle for something like that. It had nothing to do with their work and everything to do with the mess his personal life had turned out to be and even though they had crossed that line often enough, he couldn't bring himself to do it now. The jumble of emotions flittering through him was still too raw to share, especially when there was a chance that she wouldn't understand. Slowly he put the phone back into its station and leaned back in his chair. The sun was shining brightly through the window and warmed his face. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. Even if he didn't tell her, she'd notice that something had changed and the thought spread warmth through his body.

-Lost time-

-Memory losses-

-Controlled minds-

Belle stood motionless in the entryway, back ramrod straight and face hard. Rush clenched his fists. The girl – Mary – had been led away by social services almost half an hour ago, but Belle still stood there, and starred out to the street. The picture was completely wrong and the intensity of the thought shook him to the bone. Right then with her face a frozen mask, she just didn't look like Belle, not like she should be. Belle was bright, happy, but this woman looked so tired as if she could barely hold herself upright. He took another step in her direction, unsure of how to proceed, but certain, that he had to do something.

Rush drew up next to her and followed her gaze outside. The lawn was orderly with small flower beds and toys strewn occasionally over the grass. He wasn't sure what she was seeing, but glancing at her tired face, he highly doubted that it was the same. He struggled for words. The thought that Belle, who always was the one in control, could be left floundering like this was a new and terrifying one. At least she was not starring at the kitchen floor. He didn't think he would have managed to find his voice again, if she had starred at the blood of the girl's mother.

"You know," he started quietly. "after Gloria's death, everything just stopped making sense. Even my work." He laughed hoarsely. She still didn't look at him, but slowly he started to gain confidence as another one of their conversation echoed in his mind. "I used to live for my work, but suddenly it all just seemed so pointless. I used to believe that there was more out there, a greater truth I could uncover, but with her death I couldn't anymore." He smiled mirthlessly, eyes still fixed on the garden. Somehow it truly was easier to open his heart to the open air. "Ironically, if I had known about Icarus back then, it might have been the thing that would have given me something to live for. But I didn't and I just floundered…"

He paused and turned towards her again. Belle had turned towards him now, her eyes wide and shining. She gripped his hand tightly and after the first second of shock, he squeezed back. "You gave me that sense back, and I really have to thank you for that. Sometimes the memories might become too much, but you are the last person, who should let them conquer you."

For a long moment she stayed silent and all he could hear was the whistling of the wind outside and for a second he felt his face heat in memory of his pathetic little speech, but then Belle turned around and suddenly he had a soft bundle of brown curls and warmth in his arms. "Thank you", she whispered quietly. Her warm breath stroked over the skin of his neck and he shuddered involuntarily. "I needed to hear that." Rush closed his arms only tighter around her. For once he felt as if he wasn't the one floundering, but the rock she could hold on to.