Notes: This chapter contains a sex scene.

Ma-Ti glanced worriedly up at the sun. He was already behind schedule and somehow Ropni was staying ahead of him, avoiding him easily. Ma-Ti's frustration was only providing a more detectable presence, and Ropni had been aware of him for some time now.

Ma-Ti knew he was close – probably within shouting distance; possibly close enough to be looking at him. He stopped and glanced up at the sun again as it rose higher and higher. He shot another quick apology towards Wheeler, who was surprisingly relaxed about having to spend a couple more hours with his family.

Finally, he sighed and peered through the foliage in front of him. The jungle was humid and quiet. "Ropni!" Ma-Ti shouted. "I only want to talk."

He waited a few minutes, listening and cautiously prompting his mind slowly towards Ropni's presence.

Please.

Ropni finally appeared, though he kept his distance. He looked edgy, which added to Ma-Ti's worry.

"Why are you avoiding me?" the Heart Planeteer asked. "I'm leaving soon."

"I've hardly seen you anyway," Ropni said, frowning. "You never stay long enough to talk properly."

Ma-Ti sank to the ground and leaned his back against the trunk of a tree. "What do you want to talk about? You know how easy it is to contact me, my friend." He gave Ropni a warm smile, but didn't receive one in return.

Ropni sank to the ground a short distance away. "You don't understand what it's like here, Ma-Ti," he said seriously, a frown on his face. "Things are changing."

"I know," Ma-Ti responded patiently, "But you're dealing with things the wrong way. You could have killed someone the other night, Ropni. What's worse is that these people seem to love the forest as much as we do. Sometimes change isn't bad. Sometimes things like this are beneficial because it raises awareness of –"

"Stop it," Ropni said in disgust.

Ma-Ti flinched at the tone of his voice.

"You think you're still in touch with the problems we have here," Ropni said, folding his arms over his chest. "You visit us for a few days every year and think this place is still your home. But it's not."

"Of course it is!" Ma-Ti answered, getting angry despite his best efforts.

"I was born here and I'll die here," Ropni said, sounding angrier by the minute. "This village is all I'll ever have, Ma-Ti, and I'll give my life to defend it."

Ma-Ti ran his hand through his hair worriedly. "It won't come to that, Ropni. But you're in big trouble after setting that fire. Why did you –"

"Trouble?" Ropni asked scornfully.

"You burned a building down!" Ma-Ti responded, alarmed at the anger he heard in his own voice. "You can't do things like that. It just makes things worse."

Ropni muttered something Ma-Ti couldn't hear. Waves of anger and frustration were coming off him.

"I spoke to the men in charge of the walking trail," Ma-Ti said hesitantly. "I don't think there's anything for you to worry about, Ropni. I believe they'll take good care of things."

Ropni scoffed and shook his head. "Your father is probably rolling around in his grave, Ma-Ti."

Ma-Ti felt a hot spike of hatred, which was forced back by his own fear of it. He swallowed carefully. "My father," he said, his voice shaking, "fought for peace and cooperation between peoples."

"Well, look where it got him," Ropni snapped. "These people don't care, Ma-Ti. If we give in even a little bit they'll take everything from us. This is just the first step. If you had stayed here you'd know what I mean. We've already lost so much."

Ma-Ti suddenly realised how ill he felt. He rubbed his stomach and took another look up at the sun, now at its highest point. He was supposed to be meeting Wheeler.

He scrubbed his hands over his face, thinking hard and trying to ignore the waves of ill-feeling coming through from Ropni.

"You're going to leave," Ropni accused, "and forget about all of us. Don't you realise I'm on the brink of losing everything, Ma-Ti? There is nothing for me outside of our village. If I lose it, I am lost too."

"Violence and vandalism will not solve your problem!" Ma-Ti cried, desperately wanting his friend to understand. "There are people willing to put you in prison for what you did the other night. If they find you, they –"

"Prison," Ropni scoffed. "It is not me who belongs there."

"Yes it is," Ma-Ti said in a hard voice, getting to his feet. "What you've done is wrong. You may not agree with what these other men are planning to do, but it is within their rights and they intend to do things right by us, as well. Shaman trusts them and so do I." His voice wavered again and suddenly he felt close to tears. "I no longer trust you."

Ropni avoided his eyes, looking sullen. "You don't know me any more. You left. I've been fighting for this village alone."

Ma-Ti rubbed a tear away before it had a chance to fall. "Only because nobody else in the village thinks it right to use violence and hatred to protect things. If you spoke to anyone else, you would see that there have been talks and discussions going on for months. Everyone has fought hard to do what is best for the forest. You only fight alone because you fight the wrong way, Ropni." He glanced up at the sun again and gave a sigh. "I have to go," he said. "Please, please turn yourself in. I know things will be better for you if you do."

Ropni looked sullen again and shrugged. "Just go, Ma-Ti. I knew you weren't staying. Go, and leave us with our problems."

Ma-Ti wanted to stay and argue how unfair this was, but he caught a feeling of anxiousness from Wheeler that forced him on.

You okay, little buddy?

He dashed another tear away. I am leaving now, Wheeler. I will see you soon.

He wanted to say something else to Ropni, but his childhood friend had already turned his back and was walking away through the trees. He was soon gone into the green foliage, and Ma-Ti felt his loss like a physical blow to his chest.

Wheeler whistled to himself, glancing up at the sky now and then, knowing Ma-Ti was only a few minutes away. He was sitting against the ledge that ran around the rooftop. Trish was fidgeting and pacing nearby, scuffing her sneakers against the concrete.

"You okay?" Wheeler asked, sure the question was going to prompt another round of anxious demands that he keep in touch.

"Why can't you visit more often?" Trish asked, sounding surprisingly hard.

"I promise I'll be better at keeping in touch," he said again.

"No," she said, frowning, "it's not just phone calls or letters. You're in America a lot – and from what I understand, Hope Island isn't even all that far away from here. But you never visit."

"How do you know where Hope Island is?" Wheeler asked with a grin, raising his eyebrow.

"It's not funny," Trish said desperately. "I miss you, you know? When we were kids all we ever talked about was getting out of here, and you did, but you left me behind!" She burst into tears and Wheeler hastily scrambled upright in alarm.

"Trish..." He trailed off, not sure how to comfort her. "I mean... You're doing okay, aren't you? You've got your own gallery." He grinned at her.

"But I'm still here," she wailed. "Without you."

Wheeler had only seen Trish cry a handful of times – the last of which had occurred when they were eleven. Seeing her in tears sent fear and guilt through him.

"It's not easy," he said, pleading for her to understand. "I know I seem to be in America a lot, Trish, but all that time I'm running around trying to stop some sort of disaster from happening. And as soon as we're done taking care of that one, we have to go to another one. It's really rare that I get any time off at all..." He trailed off again, feeling as though his excuse sounded weak.

She nodded and rubbed her cheeks with the heels of her hands. "I know."

He gave a shaky smile of relief as she forced her tears under control. "It's not like it's easy to leave you," he said. "I really miss you."

She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth quirked upwards. "Please," she croaked. "You never even think of me."

"Not true," he said, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

She sighed and put her arms around his neck and her cheek against his chest. "I think about you all the time," she mumbled. "Nobody knows me like you do. Nobody tries."

"Well, you're hangin' out with the wrong people," he said with a grin, kissing the top of her head. In the distance he could hear the throb of the eco-copter approaching.

Trish heard it too, and she drew in a shaky sigh and kissed the side of his neck. "I'm gonna go," she said, "Before your friend gets here." She gave him an embarrassed smile. "Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"Never will be," he answered cheerfully, giving her a grin.

She smiled back and hugged him tightly, kissing him gently on the mouth before she let him go and headed for the door to the stairs. "Love you," she called. "Don't forget to write, occasionally."

He motioned a cross over his heart and grinned. "I'll see you soon," he promised. "Get some art I can understand, okay?"

She laughed and waved to him, disappearing inside just as Ma-Ti touched the eco-copter down on the top of the building.

Wheeler ducked his head and ran in, throwing his bag towards the back and grinning at Ma-Ti. "Hey little guy," he greeted.

Ma-Ti smiled. He had hit a growth spurt at fourteen that had added several impressive inches to his height, but he was still quite slender and he still only reached Wheeler's chin. He wouldn't mind the nickname no matter how tall he was.

Wheeler glimpsed his face and his smile collapsed. "What's wrong?"

Ma-Ti stammered for a moment, intent on telling him it was nothing, but his emotions were always too close to the surface to feign anything. "I lost a friend," he said eventually. "Things between us have changed and I do not think they will go back." He turned back to the controls as Wheeler sank into the seat beside him.

"Are you okay?" Wheeler asked. "I've been comforting people all day, so go ahead and let loose."

Ma-Ti laughed and shook his head. "I'll be all right. I just want to get home."

"Have you heard from the others?" Wheeler asked, running his hand through his hair and glancing at his watch.

"I spoke with them yesterday," Ma-Ti confirmed. "I think we will all be relieved to get home."

Wheeler frowned and settled back in his seat. "Man," he sighed, "suddenly I feel guilty for having a pretty good visit."

Ma-Ti laughed. "Don't be ridiculous," he said. "How are your parents? Did your mother have a nice birthday?"

"I think so," Wheeler answered happily. "Things actually seem to be pretty good at home. Dad's health isn't great, but he's really trying to stop drinking..." He sighed and shrugged. "His attitude seems better, anyway."

"Good," Ma-Ti answered with a smile. He touched his own father's necklace around his neck. As soon as he had grown big enough for it to fit him, he had started wearing it.

Wheeler watched him. "Ma-Ti, what's up?" he asked. "Shaman's okay, isn't he?"

"Shaman is fine," Ma-Ti answered with a smile. He was always surprised with Wheeler's ability to read people. He supposed it had something to do with Wheeler keeping his own emotions so close to the surface. It was easy for him to recognise signs of stress or anger or unhappiness.

In most people, anyway.

Ma-Ti shifted in his seat, still feeling uncomfortable after his final conversation with Ropni. "This friend of mine," he said slowly, "We grew up together. He feels as though I abandoned him. He feels alone and that things are out of his control..." He bit his lip and gripped his slender fingers around the control stick. "He said some things about my father which –"

"What?" Wheeler asked immediately, his eyes fiery. "What did he say? Do you want us to go back there and –"

Ma-Ti laughed. "No, Wheeler. I am all right." He touched the necklace again. "I have never heard a bad word about my father," he said after a moment.

"Well from what I've heard, your father doesn't deserve it," Wheeler muttered, looking angry. He slumped in his seat.

Ma-Ti smiled. "You have only heard stories about him from me. I am sure my views of him are biased."

Wheeler clapped a hand onto his shoulder. "Don't worry about it, little guy. I'm sure your dad is proud of you."

Ma-Ti gave him a small smile and turned his attention to the horizon, grateful for Wheeler's somewhat-abrasive cheerfulness and comfort.

Linka had managed to keep her tears under control until the moment she landed on Hope Island. She could see the eco-copter grounded a short distance away and knew the others had returned, but couldn't summon the energy to find them.

She slumped in her seat and started to sob, the pain of grief in her chest suddenly too much to ignore any further. She was so busy sobbing and moaning into her hands she didn't notice Wheeler approaching the geo-cruiser with bags under his arms.

"Hey babe," he called cheerfully, throwing the bags into the back of the cruiser. "No rest for the wicked; Gaia said there's some mudslide or something..." He trailed off and looked at her in horror. "What happened?"

"Nothing," she croaked, wiping her eyes furiously. She opened her mouth to further convince him she was all right and choked instead, wailing into her palms again.

Wheeler looked over his shoulder in horror and saw Ma-Ti emerge from the forest with his own overnight bag in his hand. He glanced at the situation and nodded towards Linka. Wheeler stared back at him in terror until Ma-Ti rolled his eyes and motioned a hugging gesture with his arms.

"Oh," Wheeler blurted, snapping out of his fear-induced paralysis and stumbling towards Linka. He sank to his knees beside her and awkwardly unbuckled her seatbelt. "Need a hug?" he asked, giving her a small smile.

Expecting some sort of muffled, hiccupped denial, he was surprised and worried when she huddled down onto the floor and leaned against him.

"I've been comforting people all day," he said confidently for the second time that afternoon. "I've got it down, now. What's wrong?"

"Shut up, Wheeler," she croaked, burying her face in his neck.

He grinned and hugged her, accepting the fact she didn't want to talk.

She shuddered, trying to get her breathing back under control. "I am so tired," she whispered after a moment, giving in completely and resting her cheek against his shoulder. "I cannot sleep..."

Wheeler patted her on the back. "I was gonna call and see if you were okay," he said after a moment. "I didn't want to interrupt anything."

"She is not well," Linka moaned, closing her eyes and pressing her face into the side of his neck. "She kept forgetting my name..."

Wheeler squeezed her gently. "Maybe there's a doctor or someone who can do something," he said hopefully.

"Nyet," Linka sobbed, "nobody can help. It is unstoppable. It is irreversible. It will only get worse and there is nothing I can do about it."

"I'm sorry, babe," he whispered.

She nodded and shifted slightly, her body twisted uncomfortably to reach around him. He tugged her forwards until she was utterly nestled against him.

"It is not fair," she mumbled, closing her eyes. "We have stopped oil spills and nuclear explosions and wars, but I cannot stop this. I have never felt so useless."

Wheeler didn't know how to comfort her. There was no use in saying "It'll be okay." Because it wasn't going to be okay – not for her, not for her grandmother. He shifted beneath her and squeezed her again. "We're here for you, Linka," he said after a moment. He felt intensely uncomfortable about being her pillar of strength at that moment. The task seemed too huge and daunting and he was sure Gi or someone – anyone else – would be able to offer better words of comfort.

She wiped her eyes and sighed, slumping against him tiredly. "I just need to sleep."

He patted her between the shoulder blades. "It'll have to be in transit," he said with a rueful grin. "Mudslides."

She wrinkled her nose and looked up at him. "Do we have to?"

He chuckled and bumped his forehead against hers. "Yup. Come on – head in and take a quick shower. You'll feel better. And all this physical labour coming up is bound to knock you into a sound sleep later." He grinned and she gave him a shaky smile before she kissed his cheek gently.

"I suppose so," she breathed. "The world keeps turning."

He ruffled her hair and she pushed him away, the smile on her face looking a little brighter.

Kwame had acted pleasant enough as they were both saying goodbye to Gi's parents. He had smiled and grasped their hands and laughed with them. They had urged him to come again.

Gi glanced at him from where she was sitting in the eco-sub. She had decided to act against his anger and disappointment with a serve of fury of her own, and had settled herself icily in a seat at the back, well away from him. Now she was regretting it.

The clouds above the ocean had been dark and dull as they were leaving. They weren't cruising very deep, but the light was still dim and shadowy as they jetted forward in the eco-sub. She could still tell, even in the poor light, that he was angry. His shoulders were set and tense.

She turned back to the window, feeling the uncomfortable prickle of unwanted tears. She rubbed her nose and curled into her seat, staring out into the murky water.

Kwame felt stiff and tired and uncomfortable. He couldn't help but feel as though Gi was too ashamed of being in a relationship with him to tell anyone. It had hurt, having her knock back every attempt to reveal their pairing, and he had retreated into anger.

He was thinking about how long he'd be able to stay angry at her when he felt her hand on his shoulder. He jumped, and glanced up at her. She wound her arms around him and rested her forehead against his shoulder, standing bent over beside his seat.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He sighed and let the eco-sub drift to a halt and surface. The waves rolled against them, lifting and dropping the vessel slowly. "Me too," he answered, tilting his head and resting his cheek against her.

"Please don't be mad," she said tearfully, pulling away so she could see him. "I wanted to tell them – I really did." She gave him a wobbly smile. "I told my dad."

Kwame turned sideways in his seat and took her hands. "You did?"

She nodded. "He was pleased."

Kwame gave a small laugh and tugged at her hands so she stood closer to him. "I thought you were ashamed of me," he said after a moment.

"Of course I'm not!" she cried, looking horrified. "I just didn't want to tack you onto the end of an argument. I wanted it to be perfect and I guess I spent too much time looking for the moment instead of just focusing on how important you are." She looked down at him sadly. "I'm really sorry," she whispered again.

He rose up out of his seat and kissed her gently. "Forget it."

"I'm not ashamed of you," she said softly. Tears spilled down her cheeks. "God, Kwame, it's..." She ducked her head and tried to catch her breath.

He brushed her cheek with his thumb. "You have never been quiet about your other relationships," he said after a moment. "Why is it different with me?"

"Because you matter," she sobbed, looking up at him. "Nobody else has ever meant so much to me." She stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders.

The eco-sub rolled over a wave and Kwame stumbled to keep his balance, one hand flat against the small of Gi's back and the other grabbing for purchase on a nearby seat. He missed and they both fell, landing heavily on the floor as another wave spun them around.

Gi rubbed the back of her head and clenched her fist into Kwame's shirt, sliding her legs around him as he shifted on top of her.

"Are you hurt?" he breathed.

She kissed him, holding him to her and revelling in the way the ocean seemed to be swelling up from beneath her, urging her towards him. She felt his hand skate up beneath her t-shirt and nestle in the dip of her waist, his long fingers sliding over her ribs.

"Don't tickle me," she breathed, squirming slightly and tugging at his shirt.

He grinned, but obeyed, kissing her again, the memory of their argument and angry separation still throbbing in his temples and encouraging him to revel in new closeness. She ran her hands over his back and pulled him nearer, her fingers slipping between their bodies to work at the fastening of his jeans.

"I missed you," he breathed, shifting his hips so she could tug the fabric away.

"I didn't sleep last night," she answered, lifting her hips against his hands. "I thought you hated me."

He flicked his tongue over the hollow behind her ear and felt her jolt beneath him, a soft panting sound coming from her mouth as she wriggled beneath him, shedding clothing.

"Of course I do not hate you," he whispered, his lips pressing against the tear-streaked swell of her cheek. She shifted and opened her mouth to his, closing her eyes and drawing in a deep breath through her nose as she felt the bare heat of him against the soft line of her thigh.

His hand rose high along the smooth curve of her body, her t-shirt lifting and bunching above the white cups of her bra. He tugged it down and ran his palms over her breasts, his teeth grazing the point of her jaw as he propped himself over her on his elbows, his knees sliding against the thin, slippery carpet on the floor. She held his shoulders and used her legs to guide him forward and then move against him, her mouth dropping open and her back arching as their bodies joined.

For a moment her hand fell back and scrabbled desperately to clench into pillows or bed sheets, only to find the smooth, bare floor. She wrapped her arms around Kwame instead, pulling him closer, moving against him and with the ocean swells that rolled the eco-sub up and down. Her heels slid and stuttered over the floor as she thrust up to meet his body; her fingers dragged over his skin and dug into the flesh of his hips; her breath hitched and burned in her lungs as she forced away the need to breathe in favour of the warm slide of his tongue in her mouth.

Kwame could feel the muscles in his arms burn and throb as he held himself above her, his body bent to fit hers. He pressed his forehead against the warm curve of her neck and opened his eyes to watch the roll of her throat as she breathed and swallowed, her breath loud and deep. He felt the low vibration of each syllable that grew from the centre of her chest and he felt the quick rise and fall of her breast against his hand as she breathed his name into his ear.

He closed his eyes when he came, moments after her body had tightened and squirmed beneath him, her body going rigid for long seconds as she curled up around him. He slowly let himself sink into her, his body a heavy weight on top of her. He felt her smile against the side of his neck and she tightened her hold on him as they fought for breath.

"We should fight more often," she murmured, nuzzling her nose against him.

He gave a tired laugh and rolled away from her, closing his eyes as the eco-sub drifted and lazed upon the waves.

Gi sat up and ran her hand through her hair. "I want to swim," she said. "I'll be back in a moment."

"Now?" Kwame asked drowsily, propping himself up on his elbows. "We should get back. We are already late."

"Five minutes," she promised, kissing him softly. "Just to freshen up." She grinned at him and he smiled back, staggering upright and righting his clothing as she slipped outside and neatly dove into the blue water.

She swam down, her eyes closed, letting the ocean wash away the stress and tiredness and guilt that had built up over the past few days. By the time she hauled herself on board again, she felt like her old self.

She pulled her shorts back on and used her t-shirt to dry her hair. She smiled at Kwame as she took the seat next to him, and he reached over and tucked a salt-roughened lock of hair behind her ear.

"Better?" he asked.

"We're all better," she answered, leaning over to kiss him. "Let's go home."

"Yes," Kwame sighed, giving her a smile and submerging the eco-sub again. "I am sure there is work to do. Let us hope everyone has had a restful few days."

"It won't be fair if they haven't," Gi answered, pulling her wet t-shirt over her skin. "Taking time off only to feel more exhausted at the end of it doesn't seem very fair."

Kwame glanced at her and smiled. "It depends what caused the exhaustion," he said.

She laughed and gave him a friendly shove, leaning back into her seat with a pleased grin. Neither of them mentioned the possibility of revealing their relationship. The right time would simply present itself. They could only hope it would come sooner rather than later.

Wheeler grinned as Gi did a little skip towards him and gave him a hug.

"How was Brooklyn?" she asked. "Get me any souvenirs?"

"Did you get me any souvenirs?" he asked.

"No."

He tickled her and pushed her away lightly to help Kwame with the bags. "We may as well throw these into the geo-cruiser," he said. "We're off to help out at some mudslides."

Gi's face fell. "Already?"

"Yeah." Wheeler looked over his shoulder at her. "Go and wake Linka, will you? She's asleep on the couch in the common room."

Gi frowned. "Is she all right?"

Wheeler shook his head and shrugged. "Her grandma's not so good."

Gi bit her lip and hurried away without a backwards glance.

Wheeler grinned at Kwame as they walked towards the geo-cruiser. "How was Busan? Did you find out any dirty secrets about Gi from her parents?"

"No," Kwame answered with a smile. He thought for a moment. "She talks her in her sleep."

Wheeler shrugged and grinned again. "I already knew that."

Kwame laughed. They had all fallen asleep on missions or around each other at some point. Gi's ability to hold conversations in her sleep hadn't been a secret for long.

Wheeler threw the bags on top of the small pile in the back of the geo-cruiser. "Did the past couple of days feel weird to you?" he asked after a moment, leaning against one of the wings of the aircraft.

Kwame nodded. "A little. Things felt different."

"Yeah." Wheeler scratched the back of his neck. "I sort of forget about the world I left behind, sometimes."

Kwame tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

Wheeler shrugged and fidgeted. "Do you ever think about your village back home?"

"No," Kwame said after a moment, "but there is nothing there for me. There is nothing much to miss."

"I guess I got trapped and thought like that myself," Wheeler admitted. "I forgot I left some good things behind as well. Like my friends..." He trailed off and shrugged. "Doesn't matter," he said, mentally shoving away the uncomfortable prickles on his skin. "Time to get back to work. That'll make us feel normal, right?"

Kwame gave a short laugh and shook his head at his friend. "I hope so."