They had only been in Africa for a few days, and Valkyrie was already starting to go crazy. When she had gotten the call from the Knight telling her that the Heroes of Paris needed their help and asking her to join him in Paris, she had accepted immediately. She had been present when the Bear first emerged from the ground; she had been there when it returned. And with the Bear threatening Paris, she had believed it was only right for her to go and try to stop it again. But even without that, how could she possibly reject the Knight when he asked for her help?

Unfortunately, the decision to go to Paris had been the easy part; everything after that had been a series of terrible events. She had watched in horror as the Beasts merged together to form the Tarasque. She had stood in awe and terror when its breath sent a dozen heroes reeling; her power had barely managed to drive the poisoned air away from them. She and the Knight and all the others had done their best to fight it, to keep the civilians out of the way, to protect the city… but it had all been in vain. Everything they had thrown at it, the Tarasque had shrugged off. Heroes had been killed; others had been injured.

And yet, she had retained her confidence: she and the Knight had both still been fighting, and that had been enough for her to continue.

Then Ladybug had called for a retreat, and some of the heroes – including Valkyrie and the Knight – had tried to delay the Tarasque until everyone could evacuate. That fight… it had been a struggle. In the end, the Knight had yelled for her to retreat, she had grabbed a couple of kids near the portal, and she had flown through to Angola. He had stayed behind, continuing to fight alongside Ladybug and Cat Noir. Her last glimpse through the portal from Angola had been of him putting a shield over a group of civilians as a building fell on top of them.

She had been searching for him ever since.

In setting up the "Hero Town" section of the refugee camp, Hakɛto had assigned her to a tent along the outermost edge of the camp, which she shared with Caravela. However, she hardly saw her tent mate during the day. Every morning since their arrival, they had gone to fine breakfast before going their separate ways: Caravela toward the space-planes, and Valkyrie deeper into the camp. She had spent almost all her time in Angola flying circles above the refugee camp, searching for the bright glint of sunlight off the Knight's helmet. Twice she had stopped the Lancer, only to be disappointed in the end. The Lancer hadn't been able to answer her questions for certain either time, and she had been too busy with her own search to help Valkyrie. So Valkyrie had next asked a couple of the Heroes of Paris, but no one had known where the Knight was. Valkyrie's heart pounded anxiously in her chest. Why had she retreated without him? She had promised herself that she wouldn't leave him, that she would stay by his side, no matter what. But she hadn't. And now she had no idea where he was. Had he made it? Was he still alive? Or was he–?

There: sunlight shining off of metal near the supply tent, walking toward the outer edge of the camp on the ocean side. Valkyrie's breath caught in her chest, following the figure's progress as it made its way across the camp. Her eyes narrowed in, catching sight of the white cloth draped over the shoulders. Was it him? Hoping against hope, Valkyrie pushed herself forward, chasing after the figure, and angled lower. As she descended, the figure came into clearer focus, the black of the emblem standing out against the white cloth mantle. Finally she dropped to the ground directly in front of the figure. The Knight jumped in surprise the moment she landed, his armor clattering loudly as he waved his arms for balance. In a flash, Valkyrie scanned his chest for the black cross on his mantle before she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight embrace. Her arms almost immediately burned where they touched his metal shoulders, but she could withstand the pain. Squeezing tightly, she sobbed in relief. "I found you!"

"V–Valkyrie?" Hesitantly the Knight returned her hug, and she sighed, melting into his arms. "What–" He cleared his throat. "What's wrong?"

"I–I was so worried that I wouldn't see you again," she whispered, tapping into her rune to give her voice its accustomed ethereal quality. She pressed herself against his armored chest, heated though it had been by the sun, almost to the point of burning her skin. She could feel the heat searing her chest and arms, even through her suit. But after the last week… "I've been looking for you everywhere!"

He shrugged and released his hold on her. "I've been around. I've stopped at the medical tents to see what I could do, though a lot of them are beyond my ability to help. But more often than anything else, I have been with the Hound and O Patriota and Kaldunya – the leader for the Russian group," he explained. "Sent-Bee has been trying to keep us informed of what's going on, though it's been something of a losing battle." Valkyrie tensed. "Sorry. I meant in the sense that things always seem to be happening, even if they rarely change the anything for us." He sighed heavily. "Unfortunately, at the moment the Heroes of Paris have no idea what to do, other than stay here and wait. They have something they want to try, but–"

She placed her finger over his helmet, in front of his mouth, and he stopped speaking instantly. "At the moment, I don't care about all of that – I'm just happy to see you in one piece. After all of this, I'm just so glad to have you back!" Removing her finger, she kissed his smooth metal helmet directly over where his mouth should be.

Gently he pushed her away, taking her by the wrists and holding her at arm's length. "Um…" She could hear the discomfort in his voice, and her stomach clenched anxiously. Had something happened? Had she ruined everything? She froze, hardly daring to breathe as the Knight went on. "You remember me telling you that I have a girlfriend now, don't you?" he asked.

Oh… right. She sighed, looking away and clenching her eyes shut. "Yeah, I know that. It's… nice that you care about her so much."

He turned to look roughly north. "She's probably back in Berlin now, with no idea where I am," he mused quietly, his shoulders slumping. "But at least she's safe. Or I hope so. With phones and internet and everything all haywire here, we can't contact Europe at all…"

"I–"Valkyrie cocked her head, her eyes widening in surprise. "Wait; we can't contact Europe at all?"

He shook his head. "It's like it's completely cut off." With a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumped. "I just – I wish I could tell my parents that I'm okay, that I could hear my girlfriend's voice…"

Valkyrie grimaced, looking down at the ground. She felt heat burning her cheeks, and not because of the sun. All the secrecy, all the lies… all of it was suddenly coming back to bite her again. No more. She let out a breath and grabbed his hand, dragging him behind the supply tent, out of view of the civilians walking in either direction down the wide avenue. He yelped in surprise, but hardly put up any resistance as he followed her. A couple of people turned to watch them, but Valkyrie found a spot near the center of the tent where they would have a measure of privacy. Finally, placing a couple of crates between then and the footpath, she spun around to stare up at his featureless helmet. Her shoulders tensed.

He cocked his head, staring down at her. "What–what are you doing?" he wondered, confusion in his voice.

Valkyrie steeled her nerves. It was now or never. "I know you have a girlfriend," she told him, dropping the ethereal Valkyrie voice. He started. Before she could chicken out, she reached up and pulled off her mask with a flourish. She smiled shyly. "I… hope you'll forgive me for being happy to see my boyfriend, Dietrich?" He stared at her, frozen in place, for a long minute. Greta's smile shifted into a worried grimace as the silence dragged out. She started to turn and walk away, heat flushing her cheeks. "I–I guess–I should go…"

Finally he shook his head and grabbed her shoulder, spinning her around. She turned to face him again, eyes wide, hardly daring to hope. After another minute, pulled off his helmet. His hair was mussed and tangled, plastered to his head by sweat. Valkyrie looked up at him nervously, nibbling on her bottom lip. Holding the helmet under his arm, Dietrich blinked, his jaw working silently. "Greta?" he finally whispered, his mouth hanging open, staring into her face. "And you knew? But–but how?"

She swallowed hard. Her mouth felt dry. "The museum," she explained, her gaze turning down to the cross on his chest. "I–I was looking when you transformed to save us. Then, when the air rune rolled toward me after the fight was over, I thought it was fate, you know? I could become a hero – like you – and you would notice me."

He dropped his helmet to the ground and placed his hands on her upper arms. Her eyes snapped up to his. "You don't need to be a hero for me to notice you, Liebe," he told her quietly. "You were my best friend long before that – I just didn't know how much I really cared about you. Or how much you cared about me until you told me."

She nodded, sniffling. "I–I know." Her shoulders slumped. "After the Bear…"

He pulled her into an embrace, resting his chin on her head. "And I've been putting you in danger for months. I'm sorry."

She smiled weakly, leaning away to meet his eye. "It's not exactly you who's been putting me in danger," she pointed out. "I started it – I chose it. And this doesn't change anything: since the Bear I've been fighting beside you because I want to. I want to watch your back. I want to be your partner. I want to do good." Her shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth – I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I wanted to, so many times. But just like I couldn't tell you how I felt, I couldn't tell you… this."

Wordlessly, Dietrich pulled her into a tight hug. Greta wrapped her arms around him, holding him close, and let out a sigh of relief. Placing his gauntleted finger under her chin, Dietrich tipped her face up and kissed her. She snaked her arms up around his neck, sighing into the kiss as he lifted her off the ground. Lost in the embrace, Greta stopped tracking how long they stood there behind the tent – all the tension and anxiety and fear of the last week pouring out of her in this single kiss. Finally, Dietrich broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers. He met her gaze and whispered. "I forgive you. And I'm glad I know now."