B is for Balance. That's what they called the ceremony to bring him back from being sick, a realigning of his body, bringing him back into balance. He barely remembers seeing his friends appear one by one, but the moment she stepped onto the wheel, something had changed irrevocably inside him. He remembered turning to face her, standing directly across from him on the spoke of a wheel, her eyes leveled on him nervously, their gazes holding for a tense moment before Max moved, drawing them out of their reverie.

She was the yin to his yang, their personalities opposites in so many ways – she was order while he was chaos, she was logic to his emotion, light to his dark, strategy to his action. All of their ragged edges and loose ends smoothed and merged into a balanced state, a synergy that became greater than their parts for one perfect moment, both of their masks completely gone as her eyes traveled back to his before his head swam and he was awake, lying in the cave feeling incomplete as they fell back into their roles.

Later, Max said he was surprised to see her there as Riverdog told her to step out of the circle because he was worried her fear would do irreparable damage to Michael, but he knew that she was the one who had completed the circuit and would never let him down. Whether she stepped in willingly, or was called to his side by something greater and beyond them both, he knew she was meant to be there. But he simply nodded in acknowledgment and kept his thoughts to himself, because how do you tell your brother that the love of his life balanced you, and if she hadn't been on that plane, you wouldn't be there to have this conversation?

B is for Betrayal. The word defined their existence – past and present. In his previous life, he had been a prince, a warrior, a respected man who was second-in-command of his planet and later, a martyr when his betrothed and his cousin, a man that coveted his position by the throne, betrayed the ones they proclaimed to love. They were slaughtered in cold blood, executed in front of the people, including his traitorous wife-to-be when Khivar finally got what he wanted.

It should have ended there, but they were beloved and their people couldn't let go of a Golden Age yet to be seen and recreated them, sent them to the tiny, helpless, blue planet they had been studying for years in a neighboring solar system, although the why of it remained unknown.

They were once again betrayed here by people who were supposed to care for them, first by their protectors who abandoned them without a clue as to who and what they were - Kal when he dumped the dupes and made his own life in lieu of honoring his obligations; Nasedo when he made a deal with the devil that killed them. They were doomed to repeat the cycle before they left the pods.

He was betrayed once more when his so-called family deserted him in the desert to go with people they had no idea they could trust, leaving him with a sense that this was wrong; they had things to do and Isabel and Max abandoned him and their life for a fantasy. Although to hear them tell it, he was the one that balked, he was the one who didn't embrace them and subsequently abandoned them. But he knew the truth.

Betrayal came once more in the form of a blonde girl, one he once called sister, when the man he once admired in two lifetimes made promises to a pretty brunette, then cruelly turned to another because it was his 'destiny.' The same girl who later killed a friend and ally without thought because she had turned on them and embraced the other side, wanting the queen-ship more than she wanted family ties and friendship.

So, could anyone really blame him for having trust issues?

That was why the fact that she had breached his walls in the first place, and that she remained the person he trusted most, was nothing short of a miracle.

B is for Beauty. He stared down into her face, his chin propped in one hand as he drew his fingers through molasses strands, her face peaceful and innocent in her repose, cheeks flushed and glowing. Despite the life they'd lived, the harrowing events, the pain, the distrust, the anger, the danger his kind placed her in every day, she still managed to retain a semblance of innocence and softness. Drawing a line over the curve of her cheek, his breath stuttered and heart warmed as her lips curved softly, his name a murmur on her lips as chocolate eyes fluttered open. Beautiful, she was so beautiful.

But more than just a pretty face. The real gem lay in the beauty of her heart and soul, one that had absolute faith and trust in him in spite of it all and eyes that overflowed with love and contentment as their hands laced together, sealed and bound by a passion and emotion greater than anything he'd ever felt in either lifetime.

B is for Bride. He had never seen himself as the marrying kind; his life was far too complex, complicated and dangerous to have someone waiting for him at home. It was his excuse to Maria when he stopped their relationship before it had a chance to take off, but his tiny brunette snuck past all his arguments and good intentions until he couldn't see a life without her by his side.

And as he stared down the aisle, his heart nearly stilling at the vision, swathed in ivory lace with gold thread and blue bead accents, he wondered if that had been his problem from the beginning – imagining that his wife would sit quietly at home waiting for him instead of fighting his battles at his side. She was not one to wait silently, and never would; wasn't one to let him face his demons alone, but would step in front of him and defend him at all costs. His own warrior princess, the queen of his heart – she taught him that real love meant accepting that while you can never predict how life will turn out, and that the real danger lies in never opening yourself up to its possibilities.

B is for Baby. When Isabel had the baby scare, he had planned to stand by her, no matter how terrified the idea of children made him; it was the right thing to do. But he couldn't describe the relief that flooded through his body when Max came through those doors and told him that there was no way that Isabel and he could create life through the power of dreams alone; he had wanted hit the ground and thank God or the fates, or whomever you wanted to believe in, when he found out.

He and Liz were still new at that point and the last thing he wanted was to hurt her with the news of an unexpected and unwanted (on both his and Isabel's parts) pregnancy. He knew that she'd understand, and that she'd step aside to let them raise the child, but trying to live without her would have broken something fragile inside him when he had just started to trust that his life could be something other than a tragedy. At that time, he hadn't been ready for the responsibility.

Now, staring at the little pink bundle in his wife's arms, joy and trepidation coursing through his veins, he traced his daughter's delicate features and grinned at Liz, counting himself doubly blessed that things played out as they did. He didn't know what he had done to deserve this life, but studying her weary, flushed face, and listening to the snuffling noises coming from the baby in her arms, he knew better than to question it.

B is for Bounty.