"You know, no matter how much power you have, if you don't know where something went wrong, you can't go back and fix it."

Silence.

Plaintively, "I mean, if you have more than one Omnipotent, neither of them is all-powerful any more, are they? Really, how fair is that? Then again, I guess that's kind of a bad analogy when you compare it to what Rei and I were doing-"

"Geez, you're making even less sense than usual... just shut up and come to bed, will you??"

Sigh.

"Yes, Asuka."

---Excerpt from Conversations With Asuka, published circa post Third Impact, after society returned to normal, or at least as normal as a society can get after briefly becoming a mass-consciousness.

Chapter 6 – Ripples

Preread by Fanf1cFan (dernit, that's the second time I forgot to add that -ed)

"This is unacceptable."

White gloved folded hands hid a brooding face.

"Yes sir."

A very familiar clipboard wobbled back and forth in a certain doctor's hands as she fiddled with it, her expression forlorn. It was obvious she was blaming herself for the present circumstances, as if she had somehow failed as a guardian.

"Another twenty points, you say."

More brooding. More wobbling.

"Yes sir. They're very near the absolute borderline." Pause. "Certainly not combat ready." She braced, as if or a hurricane, and was surprised when one was not forthcoming.

"Do nothing," he finally instructed. "Give no indication that anything is out of the ordinary."

"-but..." She held herself back from the obvious argument. The pilots had to know by now that their sync ratios had fallen to the depths, even if they had not been directly told. Still, his decision, and his order, relieved her. Very much. Over the past two months she had actually grown fond of the two pilots and their strange relationship. If only. If only...

Hearing the dismissal in his voice, she glanced one final time at the photos on his desk. One showed the two pilots practicing martial arts together in one of the many parks that littered the Geofront. It was night, but the street-lamps illuminated their positions well enough, and the low-light gear used to take the photographs was obviously of the highest quality. Another photo showed them in a different position, still practicing. Further photos showed Shinji getting his ass handed to him by Rei, multiple times, it looked like. The final two photos were far different. One showed the two pilots in an obviously passionate kiss, and the other showed the girl running into the distance, and Shinji, his expression distraught as he watched her go.

Cold.

Rei shivered once, then again several moments later. It was cold. The air-conditioning unit she had been provided with had but four settings, hardly providing what one could call fine control. She considered getting out of bed and switching it to a lower setting, but decided against it. Shinji would be back later, and his warmth would be there even if his heart was not. After he had begun sleeping beside her, she had changed the setting on the air-conditioner to adjust for the extra body heat underneath the covers.

She closed her eyes against the dark shadows of the apartment as a wave of sorrow washed over her. Her room-mate's fear had receded days after the incident, but in its wake she could feel the layers of protection that now surrounded his heart, the core of his being that had ever so slowly begun to open to her. The two of them had not discussed the incident, nor had they overtly changed any of their usual habits, with the exception of physical touch. There had been none since that day, and it wore on her, but there was nothing to be done about it. If she reached out to him now, and he rejected her, their relationship might never recover. Or to make matters worse, if she reached out to him, and he responded, what if Lilith took over again? Above all else she feared the moment of happiness in his eyes immediately after Lilith had used her mouth to kiss him. For just a moment she saw such a profound joy, something she had never been able to evoke from him on her own.

It hurt. It hurt terribly to think that he might love that dark presence in her mind more than he loved her. If he loved her. He had never actually said words to the effect of what he thought of her, what he felt for her. Physically, it was obvious he was uncomfortable around her. What is it that gives me hope? Not his words, and certainly not his actions. Turning onto her side, she unconsciously hugged her legs to her chest as her melancholy deepened, until the ache within her drowned out everything else. Even the sounds of nature seemed to shrink away. All that was left was the pain, and the distant hum of the air-conditioner.

Sweat flew off her as she dodged back and forth, hard eyes locked on the slowly swinging heavy-bag in front of her. A fist jabbed out lightning fast, then again, sending the bag backwards abruptly. Her eyes stung and the shirt and shorts she wore were plastered to her body, but she was beyond caring. As much as she tried to forget, all she saw, all she had seen the past week was his face, and those berzerk eyes as he stood up to her for the first time she remembered.

Her fist lashed out again, then she stepped forward to deliver a left hook that sent the bag reeling, before leaping to the side to dodge its return swing. Despite how well she was conditioned, her breath came in heaves, indicating just how long she had been practicing. That moment when he was threatening her, that had been the first time he had looked at her and her alone. She had been his singular focus, all that mattered, the invader that was threatening his peace.

"Peace," she spat, delivering a series of punches and a kick that sent the bag spiraling off in a new direction. What peace could be had in this farce in which they now inhabited? The only thing close to peace she had found was her link to her mother, and the time they shared during harmonics tests, activation experiments, and battles.

She let the memory of her last engagement play out in her mind as she punished the bag in front of her. It had been perfect, flawless. Without waste, as she would have put it in a previous life. It was the first battle that was a decisive win for her, one in which she had played the main role. She kneed the bag, which had wandered closer than she liked, shoving herself off it as she gave herself more room.

Verdammt! I'm better at this, I've trained for this! Why is it that my success begins only after the end of the world? She continued beating mercilessly on the imaginary opponent before her, one that was increasingly begin to take on the face of the First.

Insanity. His eyes had mirrored the insanity she recognized in her own. He was insane, or some part of him was insane, and he had apparently become the incarnation of time. Her punches and kicks turned vicious, driving the bag before her as she released all the anger, hatred, and fear she had felt since that incident. Fear... Grunting as she delivered blow after blow to the hapless bag, her actions and breathing turned frantic as she tried to erase the visions playing through her head. The sweat had nearly blinded her, and she lost control completely, throwing herself bodily onto the bag with a barely restrained shriek of fury. The bag finally surrendered and came loose from where it was attached to the ceiling of the training room deep in the Geofront. She flailed at the fallen bag uselessly as she sat astride it, her fists finally losing strength until she collapsed over it, leaning her forehead against its sweat-slick surface, shutting her eyes tightly as she held back her raging emotions, her breath finally slowing as she rested.

He was in control now. She could feel his spreading influence, how he had changed things, like dark shadows creeping up, surrounding her. Malevolent shadows. She shivered once, sweat falling from her eyelashes as her mouth quivered for a moment.

I don't care. Whoever, or whatever you are now, you can't come between me and mama, and that's all that matters.

Warmth.

He had never sat and ate a meal at a kotatsu before. The classical Japanese heated table in this case was large enough for the four who sat around it, their legs underneath the blanket that covered the table itself to hold in the heat. Near-meaningless chatter wafted back and forth as he savored the food itself.

So this is a normal family life. The man to his left was laughing, and had just turned to face him. The boy dutifully began listening.

"You did an excellent job out there, Shinji. The retrieval went nearly picture-perfect from what I understand."

"Thank you, sir."

"Please," the man insisted, "under my roof, call me Ginjiro."

"-alright..."

The man received a warning glare from his daughter. Shinji looked for some conversation topic that wouldn't lead to trouble.

"Mrs. Takahashi, I really like the tempura, how long do you leave the vegetables in the cooking oil? It's really good..."

"Oh!" the woman covered her grin with a hand and giggled a bit. "Why don't you ask Akira, she helped cook..."

"...oh, really?" He looked at his classmate and immediately regretted the questioning emphasis he had put on the 'really.' The girl blushed and smiled.

"Shinji, Akira didn't tell me you liked to cook," Mr. Takahashi boomed, turning to his wife.

"Yes, such a talented young man," Mrs. Takahashi beamed, turning to Akira, whose blush deepened in expectation. "He such a fine catch, daughter-"

"Mom!"

"True as that may be," Mr. Takahashi continued, his eyes twinkling, "I won't tell you any more about the mission," he assured a very red Akira. "The rest of it is classified, so you'll have to come up with further conversation topics on your own."

Akira gave an embarrassed little shriek, laying her head in the crook of her arm, her blush having crawled its way down her neck. Something about watching her suffer reminded him of the teasing he himself had suffered at the hands of his two former house-mates. A part of him wanted to comfort her, while another part of him wished he had never accepted the invitation in the first place. His sympathy grew, finally overcoming his shyness.

"Don't worry about it," he said, grinning a bit and covering her hand with his own. "I've gotten a lot worse than this back home..." He was referring to Misato's, but they probably thought he meant his own family. It wasn't until her head jerked up a little that he realized he might have gone too far by touching her.

"Oh, how forward," Mrs. Takahashi said, covering another grin and giggling some more.

"Hey, treat my daughter well, Mr. Ikari," Mr. Takahashi warned, his eyes turning mock-serious. Before Shinji could take his hand off hers, Akira grabbed it, dragging him to his feet.

"You're done, right?" she asked, though he could tell it wasn't really a question.

"Uh, yeah-"

Akira pulled and he followed, recognizing her desperate yearning to escape the tormentors.

"What's this, taking him to your room already?" Mrs. Takahashi's laughing eyes followed the two teenagers.

"Nooo!!" Akira immediately reversed directions, heading for the front door and dragging Shinji behind until he got his feet beneath him.

Only after leaving the house far behind did she slow down and regain some semblance of calm. It was only at this point that he began wondering about his class-mate's motives, and at the same time, what his own intentions were concerning Akira, or Rei for that matter. Akira had been casual enough when she had invited him over for supper that it hadn't sounded to him like anything more than a friendly meal. Not that I have a clue when it comes to girls, he thought glumly. Now it looked more and more like he had been brought to meet her parents, as any couple normally would. Couple. She had been more and more friendly towards him the past week, and he had been naïve. With the aid of hindsight, he recognized her actions since he had behaved the same towards Rei in the recent past. And that's worked so well up till now, his demon helpfully reminded him.

"I'm sorry you had to endure my perverted parents," she said, unknowingly interrupting his musings as they walked along. "I don't know why I thought it would be a nice quiet meal..."

"...ah, it's okay," he said, putting his left hand in his pocket. He was quite aware that she was still holding his right.

"Honestly!" She exclaimed. "It's like they're so desperate to marry me off to some good prospect and get me out of the house. Not that I'd mind marrying you, but..." it took a half second for her brain to catch up. "NOOO!!" she wailed, snatching her hand from his and covering her mouth in horror. "I didn't mean that! I didn't- I mean, not that I wouldn't mind- GYAAH!" She collapsed to her knees, covering her face with her hands. "...geez, it never ends, this is so embarrassing!" She let her breath out in one long sigh, lowering her hands to her knees and opening her eyes. She was surprised to see Shinji sitting cross-legged on the ground to one side of her. She laughed once. "Well, I guess I don't have to worry so much about confessing, right?" The way he gave her an embarrassed smile before looking away into the distance was all the answer she needed. "You already have a girlfriend, don't you?"

He was silent for several seconds. "I wonder about that," he finally said. She didn't press him, seeing the pain on his face. "It's just..." he paused, obviously searching for the right word. "-complicated. It's all my fault. Mostly my fault," he corrected himself a second later. For a moment her devious side pushed her to take advantage of this opening, but the forlorn expression on his face quashed her jealousy. It hurt her to see him hurt like this.

"Shinji, you're the nicest guy I know," she said softly, trying to draw his eyes up to meet hers. "I have a hard time believing you'd hurt anybody." She put a hand on his shoulder, and when he flinched and looked up at her, her heart constricted. The momentary fear in his eyes dwindled down, and even though he tried to put on a reassuring smile, she could see the unease simmering in the background.

What happened to make you like this? She wondered helplessly. The silence lingered, and she dropped her arm back to her side.

"It's getting pretty late," he commented, obviously trying to get past the discomfort he'd unwittingly brought to the shared mood. "I'll walk you back home."

"Alright," she replied.

Darkness... then a point of awareness towards which she rose. Senses came back in stages, first touch, and the usual slight chill as her body came to wakefulness. Sound and smell came almost simultaneously as the chill lingered past what she was used to. She blinked once, then twice, unconsciously reaching over to her right. Her hand was already past the point of no return before she remembered her situation with Shinji. A moment of panic overtook her as time slowed, and she wondered what his reaction would be to her touch.

Too far. Her hand had passed through where he should have been, and found nothing except cold sheets. She shivered, turning over and looking, just to be sure. Her eyes did not lie, nor did her questing hands. The sheets and pillow were cold, informing her of the obvious, that he had not slept the night there. It took only a moment for this to sink in.

I did not dream. This brought a profound sorrow, and a heaviness to her heart. The dreams, the one thing that had bound him to her side, were gone, and she did not know whether to be sad or relieved.

Her eyes wandered down to his futon, no longer neatly made up. She slipped from beneath the covers, coming to her knees at the head of the lumpy fold-able mattress. Reaching out, she pulled his pillow to her chest and face, closing her eyes as she let his lingering scent wash over her. Why? She begged, to whom she did not know. A tear slipped down her face, where it was absorbed by the soft material she clutched to herself. More came, and she set the pillow aside suddenly, unwilling to leave evidence of her sorrow.

It's not his fault, she told herself. Not completely. It was obvious to her what she had to do. There was one person, one entity, to whom the majority of blame could be assigned. She stood, discarding her sleeping clothes in a trail behind her as she made for the closet, and her two remaining clean uniforms.

Dressing methodically, she considered the past days. She had been forced to discontinue their shared training. It had not been so traumatic, or at least she told herself so, because he already knew enough to practice on his own. Such a change had been coming, it was just a bit earlier than expected. What had not been expected was when he had stopped coming to train gymnastics with her. It was his withdrawing that troubled her, especially since he almost never made such decisions on his own. He made so few moves toward her, that such moves away brought a hurt she could not readily extinguish. What am I to him? Yet another question she could never ask, for fear of the answer.

Will he ever reach out to me again? Me alone, and not Lilith?

With his eyes closed, Shinji could not see the soft low light that emanated from the circular wall surrounding him. He could feel his mother distantly, as if reaching through fog, or seeing her outline on a far-away hill, but that was normal considering the distance between him and the Eva itself. What was not normal was that the more he tried to focus his attention on her, the more thoughts kept coming between them.

Beside him, Rei's plug was empty. Asuka's eyes had taken on a manic gleam when she saw the he was the only other who had arrived. He had expected her to say something derogatory about her absence, but she said nothing. The German pilot had been treating him a bit cautiously the past week, and had nothing to do with Rei at all, especially during school. He had felt her eyes on him at various times throughout the day, but when he turned to look, she was staring down at her workbook. He knew the girl was a ticking time bomb, but he figured it would be more dangerous to try to apologize or talk to her about what had happened.

As the day of Israfel's attack drew closer, Shinji had done little but wonder about how things might go down. There was no telling what Asuka would do when they were sent out against the Angel, and when they lost, not if, but when, what then? He had forgotten the dance moves they had practiced together, and it didn't matter since Ritsuko had yet to program them into the Eva's computer link. That wasn't even supposed to happen until the second battle anyway.

He was a better pilot than he had been the first time, and he knew Asuka had improved judging by her sync scores and how she had performed against the aquatic Angel. But would they be able to improvise and win in the upcoming battle? It was just one more worrisome unknown.

It doesn't matter. I'll find out today, in any case. If the Angel keeps to schedule...

Other unknowns wandered their way through his mind. Images of Rei moving lithely across the blue practice mat. It had been days since he had stopped practicing with her. He had desperately wished things could have stayed the same, but every time he was with her, it felt more and more like he was on the outside looking in. The previous night he had even lost the courage to sleep beside her. Stuck between the nightmares and the coldness from a very real Rei, he had chosen the nightmares. When they failed to appear, it only brought a deeper sense of melancholy, now that there was nothing that bound her to him whatsoever.

I guess it's only a matter of time before she throws me out. He saw the pain in her eyes whenever they were near, and hated himself for it. I'm causing this, so it's better for me to go. I can't keep hurting her like this. They almost never spoke now, and when they did it was with single words, and never about the incident. Why did I have to kiss her? Emotions caught in his throat bringing a dull pain that grew stronger by the minute. She wanted me to reach out to her, but when I did, I only caused her pain. What do I do now? He repeated the question over and over, but got no answer, from himself or his mother. Just a steady sense of worry as the intruding images kept him from properly synchronizing.

Some time later when LCL level began to fall, he came to himself. Muzziness clung to him as the door slid up noiselessly, letting in the cold air. He shivered, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind as the crane fastened itself to his plug-seat and lifted him through the air over the lake of purple coolant. It came to rest, and he stumbled off the chair, nearly falling against Ritsuko, who caught him by the shoulders, looking at him with worried eyes.

"Come with me," she said simply, when his vision cleared and his legs steadied. He followed her numbly. He could almost forget he was reliving his life, things were so different. They came to a door, which she opened, and turned to face him. "Wait in here," she said with unusual calm. He stepped in and heard the door close and lock behind him with a click.

He took in the room, which was small cold and barren except for a fluorescent fixture overhead and a single metal table and chair. He sat down, putting his arms on the table, and his head on his arms. Despite the coldness of the LCL dripping from him, and the harshness of his surroundings, sleep came for him rather quickly.

Some unconscious part of him knew that two adults watched him through hidden monitoring devices, but it only brought a vague sense of worry to his restless dreams.

"Where did he learn martial arts?" one asked.

Silence, then a careful answer.

"When, I think, is the better question, Fuyutski-sensei."

"Hmph. In any case, he didn't learn all that well."

Gendo seemed to ignore his old teacher's subtle attempt at humor.

"He has been under surveillance almost non-stop when he is not in the Geofront, and he only comes here for harmonics tests and his other NERV work."

More silence.

"Could he have learned it before he came here?"

"Unlikely." The answer was almost immediate. "Extremely unlikely."

"Well," the other man spoke carefully, "...two of our pilots have effectively neutralized each other for the time being. We can't afford to rule out anything at the moment."

"True. More true than you know..."

Fear.

Fear, and perhaps a touch of excitement at how outlandish her actions were compared to her normally strict life. This was on top of the sorrow and hopelessness she felt whenever she thought of Shinji, which was quite often. Her slowing heartbeat still thundered in her ears as she tried to settle her mind into proper pattern for meditation. She sat cross-legged in one of the forested areas of the Geofront, errant breezes moving strands of her hair.

I skipped my harmonics test for this, she argued to whatever part of her subconscious was listening at the moment. Arguably, neither the test nor any of the Commander's other orders were as important as the problem she currently faced. She opened her eyes, releasing her breath which she had unconsciously been holding. With a sigh, she stretched her hands above her head, bringing them down and out to her sides as she performed the gestures to one of the calming exercises that had been taught to her. Bringing her hands back to her lap, she closed her eyes and let her worries slip away, as best she could anyway.

Nothing matters, she told herself. Whether they find me now or later, wherever they take me, I can still perform the required technique. Here or in a cell, nothing matters. Finally able to release her senseless worries, she felt herself going into the required trance.

The dark presence was there, as it always was, just out of her grasp, like a wisp of smoke moving in the breeze whenever one tried to approach it. Fear snuck its way past her defenses as she considered what was required. She had always been extremely cagey in any dealings she had with the intruding alien aspect of her being. It was a constant battle to keep the presence from completely changing her, transforming her into what, she did not know. Fear and tight discipline were the only things that had kept her who she was, at least this had always been her perspective. The pressure in her mind was sometimes intense, other times almost nonexistent, but never lapsing to the point where she could completely relax her guard.

Tentatively she reached out, empowering her probe with the frustration and anguish she had felt the past week.

Why? She silently entreated. Why now, of all times? Why have you destroyed my happiness? She did not really expect an answer. In truth, she half-expected an attempt on her mind itself, and in some ways she had resigned herself to such a fate. It would be a kind of nothingness to no longer be in control of her life. To no longer have a vested interest in what happened to her, or those around her.

Certainly her life could not get much worse than the mess she had gotten herself into.

That was not my thought. She played it over again, feeling the subtle sarcasm, the myriad little points of interest attached to each word. This is all Lilith's fault. She felt a kind of negativity about that statement, as if it were a lie, or deceptive in some way. We were happy, she insisted. Before the kiss, we were happy. Again, a negative, a denial. I was happy. The denial was weaker, but still there.

I was comfortable with the way things were, she finally thought. No errant thoughts corrected her. But I was not the only one involved. Was not Shinji comfortable? A kind of wavering, or vacillating. I do not know. I never asked, she realized. They did not talk a great deal, and always avoided complex relational topics. Because it was comfortable.

Are you comfortable now?

It was the clearest thought she had yet received, and it astounded her with its clarity and strength. Why are you interfering? She clearly formulated the thought.

I am not interfering.

The statement seemed so blatantly false that it took her a moment to discern the statement's true purpose. You are not me, she insisted, strengthening her defenses. You are separate, and unwanted. False, and false. She nearly dropped out of her trance, such was her frustration, but before she could respond, images assaulted her. Shinji, his face peaceful as he succumbed to Third Impact. Shinji, the feel of his lips accepting hers for just a moment, as Lilith used her mouth to kiss him.

He enjoyed it.

That's not true.

Even now he wants to taste it again.

With a choked sob she came out of her trance in time to feel gentle but firm hands pull her to her feet.

Section Two.

She did not fear, knowing that the presence of the Angel would keep the Commander from replacing her for the moment. Unless she truly angered him.

Shinji awoke to Ritsuko's sharp voice.

"Why, Shinji?"

He winced, rubbing at the slight crick in his neck.

"...what-"

"Don't 'what' me young man," she snapped. "Asuka's out there, fighting."

"She's-"

"She's fighting, and losing," Ritsuko continued. "And she has no backup."

It was the wrong word to use.

"I don't want to talk about it," Shinji said, laying his head back in his arms, turned away from her.

"What did you two do to each other?" Ritsuko's voice dropped to a whisper. She was referring to Rei, but the question would have worked for Asuka as well. "Talk to me, Shinji. While they'll still let me see you..."

He didn't. Some time later, he heard retreating footsteps and the click of a door locking.

Through one-way glass, Gendo and Fuyutski watched Rei. She was sitting cross-legged, her face changing subtly every so often.

"She's..." Fuyutski began, but did not finish.

"Meditating," Gendo finished, as a hint of a smile crossed the young girl's face, followed by a bit of wetness at the edges of her eyes. "At least she's still fighting." A deep bass rumble echoed through the structure around them. A phone buzzed, and Fuyutski picked up the receiver, putting it to his ear. After a few seconds he replaced it in its cradle, his hand resting on it momentarily before he withdrew it.

"The Angel's been stopped." By an N2 mine, was the unspoken thought.

"The Second?"

"Successfully recovered after her plug ejected."

"...and Unit-02?"

"Disabled," Fuyutski replied.

Shinji awoke to the sound of a door slamming. He looked up in time to see Asuka's stormy visage. She crossed the room to where he sat, and with brutal efficiency sent him to the beyond.

He awoke on the beach with his fellow pilots, in the by-now-quite-familiar limbo of post-Instrumentality. But at least the crick in his neck was gone.

Shinji sat, looking by turns embarrassed and confused.

"You lost," he finally said.

"Bra-vo, mister obvious." Asuka sat, arms crossed, her features angry. She studied him, judging that he wasn't nearly as apologetic or dejected-looking as was required. "I had no backup," she said, emphasizing the word and watching him flinch. "...as usual." Her eyes bored into the side of his head. "Why is that?" After a few moments of careful scrutiny, Rei looked to one side, unwittingly meeting Shinji's eyes. The boy turned away with a sigh. Asuka noticed this, and immediately flew into a rage. "Oh Gott-dammit!" She stood, her hands on her hips, her hair blowing in the wind. "What, is the marriage on the rocks?!" She looked from Rei to Shinji, finally turning away in exasperation. She looked into the gloom for a time, brushing her unruly hair out of her face. Finally she turned, her expression grim, eyebrows drawn down. She picked the hapless boy up by his collar, also dragging Rei to her feet.

"You two are going to work... whatever-this-is... out." She shoved them across the beach into the night. "You two got us into this mess," she shouted after them. "You two are going to get us out! I refuse to fight a useless unwinnable battle!"

The two walked along the beach until the sound of Asuka's distant grumbling was washed out by the surf. Shinji found a bit of humor in her tirades, now that circumstances weren't so dire. Now that he could effectively pause life whenever he wanted. Their lives had become timeless, but Asuka was still in a hurry. Same as always.

"I'm sorry we never talked about our feelings." Rei reminded him of her presence, bringing him a twinge of guilt. The feeling subsided almost immediately, since there was really no reason for hurry.

"It's not all your fault," he said.

"No," she said after a time. "But I am partly responsible." Silence, except for the washing of red waves over the white sand a few feet to their left. "I like the feelings you bring me," she began, looking down as she walked. A curious lump rose in his throat as he listened to her words, as if he had lost something indefinable, or was about to lose something. "Fear. A kind of fear," she amended quickly. "Closer to excitement. Excitement at the unknown. Whenever we are together, I experience new things." Her words both uplifted him, and sent him into despair, since it was his own reaction that had driven her away, at least in his own mind. "I discover parts of myself I never knew." She met his eyes, latching onto them. "I like you," she said, and the words sent a jolt through him, as if he had touched a live wire. "When I consider all the possibilities, and the different paths I might take through life, some are with you, but many are without." His entire body was rapidly going numb at the direction he knew the conversation was taking. "A life alone, or a life with others, all the paths without you are dim. I can't conceive of walking any of them." She finally released his eyes, perhaps unwilling to watch, and instantly receive his response to her words. Her stoic attitude had deteriorated through the short speech until at the end, where her words were so full of emotion it hurt to hear them. "I love you," she finally said.

He fought through the molasses of his thoughts, looking for something, anything to say. He knew his silence affected her, almost an answer in itself. The moment passed even as he was desperately trying to push words from his mouth, and he saw it go, receding into the distance. Sorrow overtook him, but somehow amidst the pain he felt it was for the best. He was broken, damaged goods, and she deserved better. He surrendered his anguish and spoke honestly.

"I don't know what love is, anymore," he admitted. "Back when, he, said those words to me, and what came after, I... just don't know." He knew that she knew he was talking about Kaworu. "My life was empty until I began piloting Eva. If I care for someone like that, again, what if they also ask me, ask..." He stopped momentarily finding the courage to continue. "Why did he want to die?" he asked, plaintively, even though he knew she didn't have an answer. "If he loved me, why did I have to choose between my own life and his?" He looked at the side of her head, her blue hair, her slowly blinking eyes. She finally turned to face him.

Will you ever do that to me? He couldn't ask. Even the possibility of a 'yes' was too much. If she had said "I don't know," it would have been just as bad. She could not have said no. He knew that, because he knew her sense of utter truthfulness, and that she would not lie just to make him feel better in the moment.

"I like being around you, too," he said. "Isn't..." She looked away, but he continued. "-isn't that enough?"

"No," she answered, having stopped walking. "...but it's enough that I've told you my feelings."

She turned and walked off into the night. He sank down until he was sitting in the sand and watched until her slender form was swallowed by the darkness.

What should I be feeling, right now?

He knew what he wanted to feel. He wanted to return her love with his whole heart. He wanted nothing more than to feel what it was she obviously felt. At the moment, he felt so tranquil it was scary. He turned his sight inwards, closing his eyes and centering himself. For one long eternal split second he was plunged into a hurricane of feelings that nearly scoured the imaginary flesh from his dreaming-body.

He opened his eyes, picking himself up into a sitting position on the beach, his breath ragged as he tried to get his breathing back under control. His head sank back down on his arm, all his strength gone for the moment. His eyes were hot, but he couldn't cry. He wanted nothing more than to tell her he loved her, and mean it. She would see the truth and love in his eyes, and for the first time he would see the happiness he had brought her. There would be a little wetness in her eyes as she closed them, and leaned forward. They would kiss, for the first time free of all shackles, free to love each other, no longer worrying about anything or anyone.

His shoulders shook, but still he couldn't cry. He made little noises, the grief desperate for any outlet it could find. He almost didn't feel the hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay."

The touch was a bit ginger at first, then it relaxed.

"Come on, be strong. I know you can be strong, I've seen it before."

He was beyond thinking logically. He turned and fell on the presented shoulder. She stiffened, but when she did not feel any tears, and when it was obvious that was as far as he was going, she slowly untensed her muscles, and let him stay there for the time being.

Heaven help him if he tried to cop a feel.