Mallory walked down the hall and halfway down the stairs before she had to lean against the wall. Her legs were shaky and her breath ragged, and she ended up sliding down to sit on one of the steps.

No matter how bad the situation is, sometimes even your body is in denial until the end. Her mind had been an assembly of "What if?"s since Wildwing had gone missing, but she still found the ability to search and scour a better part of Puckworld in hopes of finding him.

And when she learned of his amnesia, her thoughts sank into the deepest recesses of worst-case scenarios, but her body still held on.

Now, however, it had been exhausted of all its resources. Her feet no longer could carry her weight, her arms felt like limp pasta, and her chest constricted her breathing so harshly she felt like she was suffocating.

No sound came out of her, nor did any tears fall. Mallory's body had literally shut down.

She took deep breaths—the best that she could manage, anyway—and tried her hardest to regain control. All they had to do was get Wildwing back to Metropolis and get that traitor to undo the spell. He'd regain his memories, then, and she'd have her lifemate back. Nosedive would have his brother, and the team would have their leader.

And maybe if she kept telling herself that she'd eventually believe it.

She rubbed her face tiredly with her free hand, the other still clinging to the guard rail attached to the wall. She took some more deep breaths.

"It'll be okay," she whispered to herself. "He'll be okay."

After about thirty seconds she finally felt the strength to stand. She pushed some hair out of her face and smoothed her clothes, regaining what dignity she still had. Her left hand was still uncovered, her glove for it inside her fist.

As she went to put it back on, she couldn't stop herself from admiring the ring and its meaning.

It signified so much more, now. The duck she left in that room was not her lifemate—not completely. The ring was simply a reminder of the short time they'd had together, and a cruel indicator of the possibility of never having it again.

She wanted a different life: one with Wildwing and the rest of her teammates. She didn't want to be on the front lines anymore—she'd seen enough bloodshed to last her a lifetime.

The possibility of a family had even arisen in her mind since they made it back home. It was a terrifying possibility, yes, but one she had been forced to mull over recently.

All of it didn't matter anymore, not if her lifemate was gone.

And in almost every essence of the term, he was.

Mallory pushed her thoughts aside, slipped on the glove, shakily stood up and walked the rest of the way downstairs. Tomorrow was another day, and she'd be damned if she didn't keep optimistic, at least until they'd gotten more information from that worshipper.

It was her last shred of hope.

Wildwing heard Mallory walk through the hallway and down the stairs, the creaky wood flooring giving her away.

He wanted to go after her and apologize, but he wasn't quite sure what he'd be apologizing for.

It was weird, not feeling connected to ducks that were so obviously connected to you. It made you feel guilty, even though you'd done nothing wrong.

It sucked.

He got up and walked to the hallway, not quite sure if he was going to stop her as much as watch her walk away. Even not knowing her the way he was suppose to, he felt a connection with her since the moment he saw her.

It made him wonder how in love they'd been before the incident.

From the hallway he could see a large portion of the stairs, so he was able to stop a good distance away when he saw her familiar form seated halfway down. Her right hand was still holding onto the railing, but her left hand had a death grip on the edge of the stair she sat on, tensing and loosening as she breathed heavily and shakily.

He couldn't even imagine what being in her or Nosedive's shoes felt like. They'd lost someone close to them only to find him and realize that they'd lost him again, just not in a way they could imagine.

There was nothing he could say or do to make any of them feel better about the situation. He could trust them completely and try to be the lifemate and brother they knew, but in the end he'd only be lying to them and himself.

He liked Nosedive, and he was infatuated with Mallory. It was apparent that he had a connection with each of them, even if they were lying about who they were.

Mallory sniffed a little, causing Wildwing to involuntarily take a step back, out of eyeshot. He was nervous but willing to go with them tomorrow, even though this village felt like the only home he'd ever known.

He could not remember his childhood, but Puckworld's geography was familiar to him. He couldn't remember Nosedive, but he could remember struggling for almost a year in the enslavement camps nearby Metropolis, during the Invasion.

And he didn't know anything about Lord Dragaunas, Overlord of the Saurian Race—but yet he and the Strike Force chased him out of Puckworld, ended the war, and saved the world.

Wildwing heard wood creak and footsteps descending, causing him to risk a glance beyond the wall he was hiding behind.

Mallory had retreated down the rest of the stairs, most likely returning to Frank and wherever Nosedive had gone. He only briefly saw the top of her head before she disappeared around a corner and was out of sight.

He sighed, returning quietly to his room and shutting the door. Sitting back down on his bed he picked up the book he'd been reading, which Frank had loaned him: Through Their Eyes: Before and After the Saurian Invasion.

It was simply a collection of short stories, inspired by the real-life tales of ducks from every aspect of the War you could imagine. In the beginning it had helped him remember his own stint in the camps, and the further he read the more detailed those memories became.

Perhaps seeing the rest of his Strike Force teammates, as well as spending more time with Mallory and Nosedive, would help him remember the Wildwing he was supposed to be.

Satisfied with that feeble amount of hope, Wildwing sat back on his bed and opened the book to his marked page, continuing his reading by candlelight.

"Wildwing, it's been a pleasure," Frank said to the tall white duck, holding his hand out.

Wildwing shook it, smiling at the archaeologist. "Thanks for everything," he sincerely responded.

Danexis, who stood nearby, turned to Mallory and Nosedive. "I do hope you'll keep in touch?"

Nosedive raised his eyebrows slightly but Mallory smiled politely and nodded. "Of course," she answered.

"I know you're famous and all, but we would love to hear about Wildwing's progress, at least."

Mallory's smile became a bit more genuine as she smiled again. "We'll make sure to keep you updated."

Danexis, seemingly satisfied, turned to Frank as he approached the three.

"I'm sure Danexis has already told you to keep in touch—she's a bit nosy that way."

"Frankie!" Danexis whined, though she grinned nonetheless.

"Thank you for taking care of him," Mallory said wholeheartedly. "He was lucky to have ended up here."

"Eh, all in a day's work," Frank waved off her thanks. "I'm just glad to know he's got good ducks to take care of him in the meantime."

"I'm not completely despondent, you know," Wildwing lightheartedly responded, also walking up to the group. Wildwing handed him back the book he had borrowed. "It was a great read," he added.

Frank pushed the book back to him. "Keep it. Think of it as a, 'Welcome Home' gift, even though you don't really know where that is yet."

Wildwing let out a breathy laugh, taking the book back and nodding to his friend.

"Ready bro—I mean Wildwing?" Nosedive asked, his hands on his hips.

"As I'll ever be, I guess."

The three headed back to the government ship, Wildwing turning back to look at Danexis and Frank one last time. Traditionalists had also gathered behind them, waving to Wildwing as he boarded the ship. He waved back before taking a deep breath and heading inside.

For Mallory and Nosedive, the adventure had ended. For Wildwing, it had just begun.