Only Shadows Ahead

Chapter Twenty-Five

"Linka, stop!"

Wheeler's voice called out from somewhere behind her. Ignoring him, she grabbed a bag from under Grace's bed and hurried towards her meagre pile of possessions.

"Just wait a damn minute — "

"Po'shyol 'na hui," she bit back, barely noticing Grace still sitting on the top bunk and watching the exchange awkwardly. Linka gritted her teeth and doubled her efforts, furiously tossing clothes and supplies into her back pack. She turned, tossing the bag over her shoulder and marching towards the door. "I am done with it all. Enough. I am leaving."

"You don't understand," he began, blocking the doorway again; hands outward in an effort to calm the irate girl. "Just —"

"I do not understand?" she repeated, incredulous at his choice of words. Linka tried to push her way through but he refused to budge, grabbing her wrists in an effort to hold her there. "Really?"

"You have no idea what went down —"

"No!" She lunged forward, eyes blazing. "I do not understand anything, Wheeler! No one has given me the chance! I have been fed nothing but lies since I arrived here! Keeping secrets and… and…" She stumbled, becoming flustered, frustrated at her inability to come up with a suitable word. "How dare you —"

"Oh, get over it, Linka," he shot back and she recoiled, outraged that he was speaking to her this way. Having said that, this was technically the only conversation she'd had with him since he'd arrived — even if they were yelling at one another. "You think you're the only one who hasn't —"

"I had a husband!" she interrupted. "Did that detail simply slip your minds? Did you not think that was important information? Do I not have a right to know who is he? Where —"

"We were doing it to protect you!" Wheeler held tight to her wrists, closing the distance between them as she wriggled to escape from his grasp.

"Protect me?" she shrieked. Linka prised her hands away and shoved past him, her irate voice echoing down the corridor. "Bozhe moy, Wheeler. You have some nerve. You should have all been honest with me from the start! So much for friendship!"

"How was that conversation supposed to go down, Linka?" he replied angrily, glaring at the back of her head as she hurried towards the subway access hole. He followed close behind; her curls bouncing violently with each step. "How were we supposed to tell you? Like, welcome to the future. By the way, your future's fucked. You're married, now you're dead and Blight fucking killed you?"

"I have never received anything from you but truth and honesty during my past, Wheeler. Now?" She laughed bitterly, gesturing towards the common room. "I do not recognise any of you. You are all strangers to me!"

"We're not strangers," he said, exasperated. He side-stepped around her and cut her off upon reaching the manhole ladder, blocking her access. An awkward shuffle ensued and she finally stilled, watching him sullenly from beneath her lashes. He stood with his hands on his hips, glaring down at her. "You don't… you have no idea how hard it's been!"

"Then tell me!" she cried. Linka hugged herself, standing stiffly in front of him. "Tell me! Because Gi is drinking and sleeping with whoever she can get her hands on! Kwame is a… a…" She shivered. "He has done nothing but lie to me! Try to control me! Keep secrets from me! Yet you are all playing along, following his.… "

"We've all done what we have to in order to survive, Linka!" He glared at her; balling his hands into fists. "You have no right to judge us! You've had four weeks here, we've been —"

"AND YOU! " she yelled, rounding on him angrily. "You have barely said two kind words to me since I arrived! You cannot even look me in the eye! You refuse to be in the same room as me! You… you cannot bear to touch me! We used to be friends!"

"It's too hard, I can't —"

"What did I do to you?" she cried, lashing out and shoving him hard; the bitterness and anger finding an outlet. "What on earth did I do to you, Wheeler? Why do you hate me? What happened between us?"

"You didn't do anything," he said, slipping his hands into his pockets; intent on staring at the floor again. " I can't… We… we just —"

"You are breaking my heart," she wept, and his face softened just a little. Linka shook her head, wiping tears away as she pushed past him. Readjusting the bag over her shoulder, she gripped the ladder and hauled herself upwards, one step at a time. "Enough. I do not trust any of you. I am better off on my own."

"Linka, would you just —"

He grabbed her ankle and she kicked out at him in retaliation, doubling her efforts; desperate to get as far away from her former friends as possible.

"Linka, just —"

"Leave me alone!"

"Fuckin' hell."

He grabbed her around the waist and hauled her away, earning himself an elbow to the ribs for his efforts. Wheeler grunted but didn't relinquish his hold.

"Get off me," she cried, her feet flailing and striking the bottom rung with a resounding clang. Wheeler swung her around and dropped her to the ground again. Ignoring her furious expression, he gripped her shoulders and pushed her hard against the wall with enough force to knock the breath out of her.

"God damn it! Would you just stop and talk to me?"

"You have had all this time to talk to me, Wheeler!" she shouted. "You chose to ignore me! Treat me like gum on the bottom of your —"

"That's not fair! You can't just waltz in and expect to —"

"I was kidnapped! I had no choice in the matter!"

"NEITHER DID WE!" he bellowed back, red-faced and looking furious as he bore down on her. "DID YOU EVER STOP TO THINK THAT WE'D —"

"OH, SILLY INCONSIDERATE ME!" she screamed, too far gone to notice the shocked onlookers gathering nearby. "HOW DARE I INTERFERE WITH YOUR PERFECT LITTLE LIFE WITH YOUR PERFECT LITTLE —"

"THAT'S GOT NOTHIN' TO DO WITH IT!" he raged, slamming his hand against the wall. "WE'VE SPENT THE PAST FEW YEARS TRYIN' TO MOVE ON AND NOW IT'S ALL GETTIN' DRAGGED UP AGAIN!"

"HOW IS THAT MY FAULT?"

"GOD-DAMN INCAPABLE OF LEAVIN' THINGS ALONE —"

"I NEVER ASKED TO BE HERE!"

"I WISH YOU'D NEVER COME HERE!"

Wheeler's mouth snapped shut. He took a step back, stunned; seeming to regret his choice of words, but it was too late.

The damage had been done.

"GO TO HELL!" she screamed hoarsely, breaking down, unable to listen anymore. She dropped her face into her hands and wrenched away from him; deep, ragged sobs escaping her lips. "GO TO HELL, WHEELER!"

The levy had broken and she crumpled against the wall, wailing into her palms. "I JUST WANT TO GO HOME! I HATE IT HERE! I HATE IT..."

Linka stumbled away, hurrying down the tunnels; embarrassed and humiliated at breaking down in front of the one person she had always maintained her defences for. Eventually she felt resistance as Wheeler caught up. He grabbed hold of her, pulling her back towards him. His arms encircled her and she put up another half-hearted struggle to extract herself before giving up, slumping forward and pressing her forehead against his chest, crying openly.

He seemed to have calmed down.

"Oh God, I'm sorry," he murmured, resting his chin against the top of her head. She closed her eyes and cried harder, burrowing closer as he held her. He moved his mouth against her ear and she felt his breath, warm and close against her cheek. "I'm so sorry."

"I am sorry too," she wept, her voice muffled against his shirt. She sniffed, flattening her palms against his sweatshirt and refusing to meet his eyes. "I am sorry that coming here was such an inconvenience for you. I am sorry that being here has interrupted time with your wife and your happy little family."

He sighed, burying his face in her hair and hugging her tighter. "It's not like that."

She shuddered, drying her face against his chest before a new wave of tears began. "When I am gone, you can be back on your way to them again."

"Is that what you think?"

She shrugged her shoulders, still purposely avoiding his gaze. "How can I not?"

"It's not like that," he said, leaning back and holding her face in his hands. She closed her eyes, tilting her cheek against Wheeler's touch as he rubbed her tears away with his thumb. Vivid blue eyes gazed down at her and she found herself studying the creases at the corners of his eyes — comparing his features to the man she knew back in her own time.

Opportunities for closer scrutiny had been rather limited thus far and she took full advantage. There was an increased smattering of freckles covering the bridge of his nose. He looked so very tired. Red-rimmed eyes and a pervading sadness that seemed to linger around him.

"What did I do to you?" she whispered, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him back. "You have changed so much. I do not know you anymore."

"You don't understand." This time, the words weren't said in anger. They were spoken with intense regret and grief, and Linka wasn't sure which was worse. He was staring down at her with a look of misery that took her breath away. "I can't do this again."

"Just tell me. What did I do to you?" she implored, raising her tear-stained face to his as he ran the pad of his thumb over her lips. Her sobs had quietened into soft hiccups. "You cannot keep treating me like this. I cannot take it any more."

"It's not what you think —"

"At least tell me so I can fix things when I return." She cupped his cheek briefly, before readjusting the backpack and reaching for the ladder again. "No more secrets. It ends here. You either tell me or I am gone."

"Damn it, Linka."

He sighed heavily, releasing Linka's face with a pained expression. He ran his hand through his hair and took a step back, looking flustered. Her arms dropped to her sides again and she found herself mourning the loss of his warmth.

She sniffed as he turned, reaching for her hand and pulling her along behind him. She stumbled slightly, gripping tightly to him and doing her best to ignore the curious glances from those they passed. "What? Where are we…"

"C'mon."

Linka let him lead her through the tunnels, winding their way through the narrow passageways. They entered the communal area and he tugged her onwards, nodding towards the maintenance scaffolding above them. They climbed the stairs, feet treading loudly over the metal until they reached the suspension bridge section.

Wheeler let go of her hand about a third of the way across. He crouched down in one swift movement, settling himself down and leaning forward until his legs were dangling over the edge. After a moment, Linka sat beside him: resting her arms on the safety wire as she glanced down at the tiny figures bustling around far below their feet, making repairs and cleaning up.

Her eyes shifted to Wheeler, and he looked lost in thought, staring at nothing in particular. She was struck again by how different he was. Quiet. Reflective. The spark had long since departed, the flame all but extinguished.

She found herself grieving the loss of their former flirty exchanges. The cuddles and random displays of affection. The jokes. The relentless optimism. Their ability to find comfort and contentment in one another.

Wheeler had always been a source of joy and positivity in her life — she had taken him for granted for far too long. She knew that now.

But she had glimpsed a shadow of his old self — on the phone to his wife and child the week before.

He is like this just around me.

"What did I do to you?" she asked again, reaching out and brushing his cheek with the back of her index finger. Wheeler closed his eyes and leaned forward with a sigh.

"You died."

"And yet you would blame me for this?" she pushed gently. "You are married. You have obviously moved on."

He shook his head, resting his chin on his arms. "I never moved on from you."

"What does that —"

He sat forlornly, shifting himself and settling his gaze on the subway sign. "You weren't meant to know anything. We were just gonna turn you around and get you home. Minimum fuss. Keeping the personal shit to ourselves — that was the rule."

"Kwame's rule?" She frowned at Wheeler's lack of response, feeling hot bitterness coursing through her. "Ever since I arrived… Kwame has no right to keep secrets from me."

"It's not Kwame's fault."

"I had a husband! Is he even alive?"

"Yeah."

"Who is he? Do I even know him?" She sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "Why would Kwame choose to keep the fact that I am married from —"

He looked away. "It was my decision to keep that from you."

"What? Why?" she said sharply, honestly bewildered. "Did you not think —"

His blue eyes rose to meet hers and she trailed off as he reached for her hand. He caressed her fingers gently, running his touch up and down along her knuckles and the question she was poised to ask died on her lips.

He gave her a small smile. "Still as God-damn stubborn as the first day I met you."

"It is my most endearing trait," Linka replied softly. "And do not change the subject, Yankee."

He nodded, letting go of her hand. "It was my decision not to tell you. Everything... It's all on me. Don't blame Kwame, he's been through enough. Everything he's done…" He trailed off. His jaw was set; eyes narrowed and piercing. "I never told them how you died."

"Wheeler," she breathed, staring at him with wide eyes. "Do you know what happened to me?"

"Yeah."

She shook her head. "No more secrets."

Wheeler hung his head. "There's no goin' back from this."

"I need to know."

He nodded, staring off into space; a faraway look on his face. Finally he straightened, as if resigning himself to the inevitable.

"Blight officially lost the plot after the virus was uploaded. MAL was gone. She swore revenge. Blamed you."

"All right," she whispered.

"You put on a brave face at first, but you were fucking terrified. It happened so fast. We had a window of twelve hours from the moment you were given the relocation order."

"Twelve hours notice?"

"Unmarked van was picking you up the next morning. You had to disappear. We barely had enough time to say goodbye."

"What about my family?"

"One phone call, then no contact. With anyone."

She stared at him, struggling to comprehend what her future self went though. "Surely they could have given me more time?"

Wheeler shook his head. "The power and internet hadn't been infiltrated at that point. Blight still had access to online databases under your birth name, so it wasn't worth the risk."

"They took me away?" she asked, listening intently. Wheeler nodded.

"Yeah. New identity. New name and birth records eventually, too. You took precautions. Gi cut and dyed your hair the night before you left." He smiled at the distant memory. "Once you were settled, you even took articulation lessons. Worked on your speech and language patterns. Tried to blend in."

"It obviously did not work," she said in a low voice and he shook his head.

"No. You were moved several times because Blight got too close. Safer that way."

"What happened?"

He bit his lip, gripping the safety wire tightly. "Blight couldn't get her hands on your actual physical address but she managed to find out your mailing address — a PO box. We still don't know how. She had Gi's handwriting on file and forged a letter from her. You hadn't seen Gi for a long time and you were missin' her like crazy."

"She lured me out?" Linka whispered, her eyes wide.

"The letter gave a time and a place where Gi would supposedly be waiting for you. Said she'd pop by at the same time all week in the hope you guys could catch up. Public place. Town square. Around lunch time, so crowds would be around. I guess it lulled you into a false sense of security."

"How do you know all this?" she asked, her mouth suddenly dry. "You said it yourself, there was no contact —"

He didn't seem to hear. Either that or he was purposely skirting the question. "The poison was delivered via a trigger system. Spring-loaded mechanism, attached to the tip of an umbrella. Very old-style KGB. Probably designed to look like a Russian Intelligence hit."

"Oh my God", she moaned. The blood drained from Linka's face as she gaped at him. Wheeler leaned over the guard rain, looking utterly miserable at having to dredge up the memories.

"It'd just started to rain. Talk about the odds being stacked against ya." He looked away, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "Umbrellas everywhere. Blight did it herself. You had no clue what was comin'."

He made a sharp thrusting motion with his free hand. "Back of the thigh. Pierced your jeans."

Linka sat in stunned silence, her green eyes wide and unfocused. She leaned against him, pressing her cheek against his shoulder.

"It took thirty seconds for you to collapse. Apparently people came runnin' from every direction. The witnesses said you started convulsing as soon as you hit the ground. Another two to three minutes for the poison to work its way around your bloodstream."

"Wheeler?" she whispered, reaching out and touching his upper arm. The muscles beneath were tense and she was dismayed to see that his eyes were glistening. "Oh God, how do you know all this?"

"Another minute and you went into cardiac arrest. Your heart stopped." He dropped his chin against his chest. "You died in the rain that day, with a retired couple from London holdin' your hand — and our daughter screamin' for her mommy in the background."

Linka's blood ran cold. The world seemed to stop turning. Linka clapped her hand to her mouth. Analysing and re-analysing the last sentence, picking it apart; wondering if she could have possibly misheard it.

But she hadn't. She knew she hadn't. She sat numbly.

Our daughter.

"Our daughter?" she whispered. "What —"

"Phones were out at that stage. Power was on the verge. I came home to two police officers and a fireman at our door. The neighbours had gone searchin' for a couple of beat cops. Worried about the smoke —the kitchen was nearly on fire. You and the kids had been makin' brownies for me. You were so excited about that fucking letter that you'd left the damn oven on."

"Wheeler," she whispered, wiping away fresh tears. "I… oh God, I do not know what do say."

"There's nothin' to say," he said, glancing at her again and looking as utterly miserable as she felt. Her heart broke. "The police said there'd been a death two blocks from our apartment. Young woman with no identification. Two kids under five bein' looked after. I just knew… I knew in my heart it was you."

Silent tears rolled down her cheeks. She leaned forward, resting her forehead on the cool metal. Wheeler's hand pressed warm and firm against the back of her neck and she sighed, relishing the contact. She shuffled her body closer towards him and snuggled into his side, burying her face in the warmth of his neck. He draped an arm across her shoulders.

"I picked up the kids. Took 'em home. Signed you out of the morgue after the autopsy. Contacted the others since their was no use hidin' anymore. They came to see you. To say goodbye. We shipped you home to Russia, as per the original will."

"Bozhe moy," she whispered, trembling as she wiped more tears away. "But they told me you were married. I heard you talking on the radio to a woman —"

"My sister-in-law," he said, pausing before correcting himself. "Our sister-in-law. Brought the kids back to the US after you died. Mishka and his wife followed, they live close by."

"Oh God," she murmured. "I can't believe…"

"They're lookin' after the kids while I'm here." He gave her a wistful smile, rolling his wedding ring around his finger. "And I still consider myself married. There's been no one since you."

"Oh God," she breathed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it nearly broke me. Broke us. To this day, I've never even been able to talk about it — I haven't told the others how you died. I stayed away. Did my best to carry on, but…" He sighed, bumping his temple gently against her own. "I've spent the last few years clawin' my way back, knowing that eventually you'd come back to us — and then you'd have to leave again."

The pieces finally fell into place. The lack of eye contact. Avoiding her company. Being overly stand-offish. It had all been a defence mechanism. Wheeler had kept his distance — and kept the truth from her — purely for his own survival.

"It was my decision not to tell you about me and the kids. It was just easier to shut you out than let you in again. I wanted things that way and Kwame and the others respected my wishes. I can't get attached to you again. I can't. I'm tryin' so hard not to. I gotta be okay for the kids."

"I am so sorry, Yankee," she whispered, unable to put into words what she was feeling. She touched his cheek, seeing him in a whole new light. A thought occurred to her. "After the Planeteers ended —when I went into hiding — you came with me, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"Were we together before that?" she asked gently.

"No." He smiled to himself. "Night before you left, I laid it all out on the line. Told you how I felt. I just couldn't bear the thought of losin' you." He grinned suddenly and Linka's heart leapt, overjoyed at the expression that lit up his face. "I was kinda expectin' you to tell me to fuck off, in all honesty."

She beamed back at him, placing her hand on his thigh and leaning against him. They sat in silence for a while, their legs swinging idly while Linka composed her thoughts. It was as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She hadn't been aware of the emotional toll his demeanour was causing. The heavy feeling in her chest was gone; replaced by swirling butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Not nerves, not anxiety — but a breathless anticipation.

The knowledge that she had an intimate history with this man occurred to her. The thought was powerful in it's simplicity and she flushed pink, hiding her face within the folds of his jacket. That she had obviously loved him, and lived with him and slept with him. Borne babies and created a life with him, before Blight had viciously cut them down.

"I've never forgiven myself for not being there. I still struggle with that. We didn't even get to say goodbye to you. Hannah still remembers that day… she has nightmares."

"Hannah?" Linka peered up at him, suddenly desperate to grasp an insight into the life they'd apparently made. "Our daughter?"

"Hannah and Eli," he said. He turned his head away, swearing under his breath. "God, I shouldn't even be —"

"Do you have a photograph," she asked breathlessly, eager to know the details. Feeling a little light-headed and giddy. "Of the —"

"Yeah," he answered, but made no move to retrieve one.

"Can I see them?"

"I don't know whether that's —"

She held out her hand expectantly, quirking her eyebrow. "Pozhaluysta?"

Wheeler rolled his eyes, muttering something about stubborn Russians, and a bubble of laughter escaped from her lips. He reached for his wallet, which seemed to hold very little except personal mementoes, now.

He pulled out a photo and passed it to her. Linka made a small noise, running the tip of her finger over the smiling faces.

"Oh," she exclaimed softly, staring at her miniature self beaming from a photo. It was obviously from when the children were much younger but Linka couldn't help grinning at the resemblance. Hannah's straw coloured hair was thick and wavy, topped off with a red hair band.

The baby had a fine covering of red hair and looked to have recently cut a tooth. His gummy grin was quite precious. They were propped up against a backdrop of books and toys and she assumed it was a studio image.

"Hannah's eight now. Eli's nearly four."

She grinned, wondering if her older self had chosen the outfits, dressed them and marched them into the photography studio herself. A task so mundane, but the thought delighted her nonetheless. "Oh, look at them. They are beautiful."

"She's a carbon copy of her freakin' mom," he said, watching as Linka traced a fingertip over Hannah's red and white summer dress. Wheeler smiled as he peered over her shoulder.

"What is she like?"

"Gorgeous. Very clever. Major attitude." He sighed. "Your brother calls her Little Linka."

She raised her eyes to his, feeling a lump rising in her throat. "Little Linka?"

"Says she's the spitting image of you as a kid."

"Da, she is," she breathed, shaking her head slightly at history repeating itself. Linka smiled, noting Eli's red hair with delight. "And the malyutka?"

"Wild man. Absolute clown. Annoys the shit outta his sister on a daily basis." He chuckled, leaning back. "Reminds me of another dynamic I used to know."

"Mmmm," she replied distractedly, unable to take her eyes off them. She found herself unable to wipe the stupid grin off her face. The weight had been lifted. Clutching the photo tightly, she studied the children closely. Committing their features to memory. They were just perfect. More than she had ever hoped for, or had ever contemplated.

Suddenly anxious to learn more, she glanced up at him. "You do not have more recent photos?"

"That is the most recent photo, babe," he remarked slowly, and her heart leapt at the familiar term of endearment. He gestured to the crumpled glossy paper. "Not like I can pop down to the local pharmacy to get 'em developed."

"Do you have any photos of me? Of us?" she asked, not bothering to act coy about it. She had a desperate desire to know more now.

"Yeah," he replied slowly. "I do."

She frowned as he made no move to retrieve anything. "Do I get to see them?"

"Nope," he said firmly. "They're in Kwame's room. Gimme time. I'm hangin' by a thread here."

"I don't... I didn't mean to…" she stammered, flushing and feeling incredibly selfish about pestering him; dredging it all up. "If it is easier, I can —"

"Don't worry 'bout it," he said. He groaned, dropping his forehead into his palms. "You make it seriously hard for a guy to ignore a girl in peace, ya know that?"

"Sorry." She blushed self-consciously. Linka pursed her lips, breathing out slowly and letting the tension ebb away from her body. "I will try to behave myself."

"Uh huh." He nodded, jumping to his feet. "Yeah. I'm goin' to bed."

"Good night, Yankee." She raised her hand, beaming at him before resuming her avid inspection of the tattered image.

A hand dropped down and grasped the photo. Linka made a frustrated noise, not quite ready to relinquish it. She gripped it tightly, grumbling under her breath but Wheeler tugged it out of her hands.

"Mine," he muttered, placing the image back in his wallet before walking away with a backwards glance levelled over his shoulder. "Get your own, Russki."

"Mudak," she called out after him.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice echoing long after he had descended the stairs.

She grinned in spite of herself, swinging her legs again, feeling ridiculously pleased with herself. Wheeler disappeared into the crowd below. She leaned over, spotting Kwame's figure standing off to the left, just outside of the tunnel to the common room. He looked tense; arms folded across his chest and peering up at her worriedly.

Linka winced, feeling a deep sense of shame and embarrassment, aware that she owed Kwame a major apology for her outburst.

She rose to her feet and descended nervously, knowing now that Kwame had shouldered the burden of responsibility — and her temper — unfairly. It was apparent that Kwame had spent the past month stuck between a rock and a hard place.

His loyalty to Wheeler had been unwavering, however. He had willingly borne the brunt of Linka's accusations in an effort to make things easier for his best friend.

Heading across the metal communal area, she halted in front of him. "I am so, so sorry, Kwame," she whispered. "I have behaved terribly. I —"

"Apologies are not needed, Linka. You did not know," he replied, holding his arms out. They embraced, swaying slightly amongst the cleaning crews hurrying past. "He is my best friend. I would do anything for him."

"Da, well it is all out in the open, now."

"Thank God," he said sagely, rubbing his brow. "I have spent the last couple of weeks trying to convince him to come clean."

Linka nodded. The arguments and tense words exchanged between the two men during her time here made sense now. "I am sorry about before," she murmured against his shirt.

"I thought I was going to have to physically restrain you for a while there," he muttered, shaking his head. "I almost forgot how temperamental you could be."

She laughed, tipping her forehead against his chest. "I have two children," she whispered, releasing him and wandering away, a dreamy smile on her lips.

"Technically you don't," Kwame called back, but she waved him off, wandering back to Grace's room in a daze.

Nothing could dampen her mood.

Author Note:

Thought I'd better not make you wait for this one ;-) Incidentally, this chapter was the very first written. The rest of the fic was based around it!