"I told you, curiosity is a very dangerous thing."
The springtime air in Sicily still bore the same frosty chill from the winter that had just left. Certain parts of the world still had a long way to go from having a nice weather, but most were content with this. It didn't seem so bad even if the flowers may yet have a few weeks to bloom.
The view from the top of the hill was breathtaking. The landscape ahead was structured with houses and buildings, with people and noise as the day matured to its busiest hour. It was full of life. Everything was alive and satisfying.
That was why he chose it as a place for them to talk.
Skylar, caught, approached him cautiously. "You knew I was here?" she asked.
He glanced then smiled at her. "I always know when you're around," he said, leaning back on the bench.
"It took a very long time to find you," she said.
"Months. I know," he said. "I wasn't trying to be found."
"Well, I just did."
The smile on his lips increased minutely. "It's because I let you." He then sincerely asked, "Are you feeling better now? You didn't seem like you were in such a good shape the last time we saw each other."
"I'm fine."
"And my jacket?"
"We destroyed it."
He grinned. "Was it a ceremonial destruction at least?"
"The Davenports blew it to smithereens."
He laughed. "Did they sweep it for any clues on where they can find me?"
"Probably. It was gone for a few nights."
"Did you check if there was anything in the pockets before it vanished?"
She said nothing, but he knew she did. "They've been trying to figure out what exactly Gray Antelese is," she said instead
"Have they had any success?"
"No. Mr. Davenport said there are only traces left in Roman's and Riker's bloodstreams, and it's not enough to identify what it is. The mineral melts quickly after it absorbs energy. I have a feeling you knew that."
"Of course."
"Why are you so bent on making their lives miserable?" she demanded, trudging up to his side of the bench.
"There was another sliver of Gray Antelese in the jacket. I left it there for you so no one can hurt you again," he said instead, lifting his eyes up to meet hers. "Did you keep it?"
"That's not what I'm asking."
"I didn't think I needed to answer. What you assume? It's not true," he said. "I'm living my life the way I see I should. I'm not the one bent on making their lives miserable. I'm not the one who spends millions yearly on a useless manhunt, I'm not the one who sits and sulks about a natural consequence. They're the ones who are making their own lives miserable."
"It's not like you had nothing to do with that."
"Hm. The dinner, yeah, sure. I'll take some responsibility in that. As far as the rest…" He shook his head. "I don't believe I did anything."
"You've caused the family so much trouble. Since the moment you left, for three whole years, they've been looking for you," she defended.
"I didn't leave, your Highness. They threw me out."
"It's because you were sick."
He smiled at that, warmly and sincerely. "I think you're the only one who understands what really happened," he told her.
"They understood, too," she said but sounded so unsure. "That's why they found the best facility for you."
"If Kaz or Oliver or any other people you treat like family got sick, what would you have done?"
She hesitated, knowing where he was leading her. Still, she answered, "I would've found out what made them sick. I would've taken care of them."
"Yet, the people who you claim cares about me haven't found out why I got sick. They paid other people to take care of me," he said. He sighed, turning his eyes back to the city. "Why are they looking for me?"
"Because you're dangerous," she responded, the fire within her rekindled.
"Dangerous to whom, exactly? I've never hurt any innocent people." Again, nothing; she knew he was right. He asked the second time, "Why are they looking for me?"
"Because they're worried."
"Do you know what they're really worried about? It's not my well-being, I can assure you that – although my mom is probably an exception." He answered, "What really bothers them is the fact that I did something they didn't expect. They don't know that's why, but I do. They had expectations for each of the kids. They had this set future in mind of how things are gonna work out. I didn't follow, and that bothered them."
"What were they expecting of you?" she asked, the tone of her voice notably softer.
He glanced up at her. "Basically the same thing others expect when they see a man like me," he said. He stood, facing her. "Why are you here, Skylar Storm, with me, when you could be protecting your city? You won't discover anything of importance. You won't find a psychopath who's willing to do anything to rule the world or a superhero who's misunderstood. Why are you wasting so much time?"
There was a certain gentleness and vulnerability in her deep irises as she stared at him. She gazed at him searchingly, in a way that unintentionally dared him to be as weak as she. Her ethereal features had become more mesmerizing under the Sicilian sun. Her beauty drew out a special kind of smile from him.
All too soon, however, the moment ended. Behind her eyes flickered an intent, the one that was part of the reason why she came there in the first place, and it turned his admiration to a ghost of disappointment and disillusionment. "Why do you always treat me like I'm special?" she asked.
It became evident to him that sense of obligation and honest curiosity warred within her. That gave him hope. "Because you are," he admitted, encouraging the latter of the two sides.
The war only continued to rage.
Though it disheartened him that she couldn't choose him, he said, "Did you know that I had a huge crush on you when I was fourteen? I thought you looked beautiful in the comics. Of course, I knew that all women in your planet look like you. But you had always been different. Will always be. You'll always be special to me."
He stepped closer to her, their proximity dangerous. He smiled. "I know why you're here," he said. "I know what you have to do. It's all right if you choose to do it, but just make sure it's because you want to. Showing affection shouldn't be out of obligation. You're worth far too much for that."
"I'm sorry," she said sincerely, drawing closer to him.
"I'm not," he muttered before her lips met his.
The kiss jolted his heart with an incredible voltage that made him alive. It had been everything he had expected and not. Her nearness and the affinity she actually felt for him were intoxicating. He kissed her back, cautiously but also honestly.
When they pulled apart, he smiled at her, noting how spectacular she looked that close. She, on the other hand, gazed at him in fear, in relief and uncertainty.
He knew why. That kiss was supposed to paralyze him. It was supposed to be the means to which the Davenports could finally be saved from their biggest grief.
Only their biggest grief had immunity to their trap. Only their trap had been discovered a long time ago.
Now, the only one left dying was the Skylar Storm they once knew.
. . .
It took a while before it happened, but he didn't mind. He was patient, and it was best if she was sure.
He didn't get a chance to watch it unravel, but he did hear about it through word of mouth. After the Calderian warrior came home from Italy, things began to change. She had become secretive, reserved. She wasn't as involved in their new missions as much as she was before. She did things perfunctorily. She hadn't lost her interest in people, but she had remarkably lost interest in the team.
She obviously still cared about her two longtime friends. After all, they had been through so many things together. As far as the rest…
They had become so worried about her, and rightfully so. Considerable changes like that was nothing to ignore after all. They had tried to talk her out of that strange and troubling mood. They even blamed him for it, accusing him of brainwashing her, stacking upon him all these wild and false allegations just so she would change her mind.
Meanwhile, they had no idea how much the things they said discredited her, insulting her own ability to think for herself. She said nothing, but the suspicion she had that she didn't belong with them anymore grew stronger and stronger until it had become a resolution.
He told her the afternoon they met that if she ever decided to choose him, she would know where to look for him. However, she had to be absolute that she really, truly wanted and needed to be with him, because once they were together, he would do whatever he could to convince her to stay.
Seeing her waiting for him one morning came as a pleasant surprise. He had just finished a brief meeting with a client's assistant. When he turned around, she was there, waiting at a table for him at the restaurant across the street in her glasses and the prettiest summer dress he had ever seen. "Why are you here, Miss Valentine?" he asked her with a smile after coming up to her.
She returned the expression. "I was told that there's an argument I need to hear about why I may want to stay," she said.
"Do you want to?"
"I think so."
He nodded. "Breakfast?"
She grinned. "I already got us a table."
"No, not here. Paris."
The grin on her face diminished, only to be replaced with a warm, dazzling smile. "Okay," she said.
He held out a hand to her. She took it, then grabbed the backpack containing the very few personal belongings she chose to take. She joined him after walking around the table and out of the small, decorative fence that divided them.
Then, down the scenic, cobblestone road, they walked together hand and hand.