The very worst part, thought Alek, was how much he owed her. He owed her a great deal of respect, of loyalty, and for saving his hide several times and defying direct orders to protect his own secrets. Above all he owed her his friendship, because she had been nothing but decent to him.

That didn't mean it didn't sting.

It didn't mean his pride wasn't hurt. How hadn't he noticed sooner? Surely the archduke of Austria-Este should be able to recognize a mere woman when he sees—and makes physical contact with—one.

And it didn't mean his head wasn't spinning from the sheer absurdity and anomalousness of it all. When it initially occurred to him just who he'd befriended, he felt the same sort of impact he'd suffered when Dr. Barlow revealed her true identity, only a thousand times stronger. Everything he'd known had been tossed upside down on its head.

Women were not supposed to be strong and courageous like Dylan—or whatever her name was; he'd forgotten to ask. They certainly weren't supposed to be able to fight. And the fact that she exceeded him in height only irked him more. She was an abomination in every conceivable aspect.

But… similar things had been said about his father, and doubtlessly would be said about himself. He simply could not resent her for stepping out of the mold without being the biggest hypocrite alive. Heck, the more he mulled over it all, the less he wanted to resent her.

And Alek found, after an evening with himself and his thoughts, that he didn't even have it in himself to be angry with her. He was, to put it lightly, in deep clart.

.

"Dylan, are you awake?"

"Mm. No."

"I just… I need you to know that I forgive you."

He thought he saw the glimmer of a blue eye in the dark. "Brilliant. I appreciate it."

"I apologize; I was completely out of line. I was being stupid."

"S'alright. Just don't… think of me any differently, aye? I'm still me." She chuckled sleepily. "Don't go run a mile."

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"What did you say just now? I didn't catch it."

"Sorry, Alek, my head's gone all fuzzy. Painkillers an' all that. Good night."

.

"My name's Deryn, just… by the way."

"Hm?" This time Alek had been nearly asleep.

"Deryn Sharp." She stroked Bovril's head nervously—someone had found the poor shaken-up beastie in the wreckage and brought it to the tent. It'd promptly taken up residence with Deryn, where it would tremble for a few straight days. "That's… my name."

"Okay," Alek murmured. "Deryn."

She smiled. There had to be a reason that sounded so right.

.

"About the 'run a mile' thing…"

"What about it?"

"You don't actually…" He was unsure of how to word it. Deryn studied his face expectantly. Bovril's saucer-like eyes, deadly focused on him, were not helping.

"No, I don't," she said, grinning, though her stomach was sinking with the sickening notion that she knew what he meant to say. Had she actually mentioned that? Barking drugs. "What don't I actually?"

"Have feelings for me?" he spat out.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I… well…" She couldn't bring herself to lie to him again after all the mess her first fib had caused. She almost didn't want to lie about this. "Maybe not feelings so much as… inklings. You are a bonnie lad an' all. Good heart an' all that."

The only sounds for a few moments were the laboured breathing and rough voices of those in the tent. There was usually enough going on that no one overheard their hushed conversations, and for that Deryn was grateful.

"Deryn…"

"Aye?"

"I do love you." He managed to look her in the eye when he said this. "You're my best friend," a nervous chuckle, "as odd as that is."

Deryn nodded mechanically, head reeling, having just had her foolish heart pumped full of hydrogen and shot back down to the ground in an instant. "Aye, I love you too. As a friend," she murmured. What a lie. What a lie and it hurt oh god it hurt. How could she have let herself be so stupid?

A barking lie, and he knew it. She could see that much written all over his face.

Those had not been the cries of a mere friend. One friend did not scream at another to wake up like that. But he would pretend to believe it, if only to save them both.

Alek forced himself to smile. "That's good. I'm glad."

.

They were to be transferred to a nearby municipal hospital for a few days or weeks, after which they would be discharged. Nurse Fisher delivered this news with their breakfast, but it was so much more than mere news. It was an ultimatum. And eventually, after eating in silence, it was Alek who voiced what they both were thinking.

"I was just wondering…"

"Shoot," Deryn prompted.

"Where are you going to go after this?"

She acknowledged the question but didn't answer right away. It'd been easy to forget she had anywhere to be, lazing about in this tent and being told simply to rest. But the answer seemed pretty obvious to her now, as if there'd never been any other choice.

"Wherever you go," she said softly.

He laughed once, quietly, humourlessly, whether in disbelief or in response to a massive stupidity that had not been as obvious to her as it evidently was to him, she didn't know. Either way, it stung. "I don't know if that's the best idea."

"Well I can't very well go home to my mum and my aunts looking like this." She gestured angrily to her battered body.

"Deryn, I'll probably be going back to Austria. Hopefully to put an end to all this. I just—" He ran his fingers through his knotted, greasy hair, completely out of his element. "I don't see—"

"I won't get in your way! I'm not some bumbling, obnoxious Dummkopf. Besides," she smiled wryly, "I needn't worry about looking like I'm up to treachery or any of that. There's no way I'm getting back into the service after this."

Alek's brows furrowed. "Why not? The nurses haven't told anyone else. And I don't think anyone's noticed." Not that there was anything to notice, what with the completely unnecessary binding over her chest that Nurse McIntyre had supplied her with.

"Aye, but they're not going to let me back in after getting shot four times without written consent from a physician. And physicians tend to pick up on things like gender."

She didn't want to have to say it, but it was fairly obvious, even to Alek, what she was implying. I have nothing else left.

Alek sighed and leaned heavily back on his pillow. After a long moment he repeated, "Wherever I go…?"

"Aye."

He turned tiredly to her, but thankfully, wonderfully, he had a small smile on his face. "I suppose I don't have much say in the matter, do I?"

Her lip twitched. "Well, I suppose if you really never wanted to see me again—"

"I do. Trust me, I do."

She smiled, tired eyes lit up, cheeks ever so slightly pink. Alek felt his own face grow warm just looking at her. He realized with dismay that he would've done anything for that smile. He realized that there'd never been any other choice.

"I suppose I could find a way to put you up in a hotel for a bit, at least until you've fully healed."

"Aye. And where'll you go?"

"I might have to join you temporarily, as it happens. The estate might be… infested. Pests and all that."

"Well, if you must."

"We'll have to work on your German."

"What are you talking about? My German is wunderbar."

He laughed softly. "It won't be a very forgiving place for an ex-Darwinist-airman—woman—whatever. You might be cooped up for a while."

"And you?"

"Possibly also cooped up."

"Then I do believe I'll be fine."

He grinned at her and held out his hand, to shake, she thought. She was able to reach it with her good left arm, having earlier asked one of the nurses to surreptitiously bump their cots a wee bit closer. Alek took her hand and said, "It's a deal, then," and, after checking quickly to ensure no one was looking, he raised her hand to his lips and planted the first of many kisses on her.