Only Shadows Ahead

Chapter Fifty-Six

The park lay dark and dormant in front of them. Stooped in shadow, the eerie lack of street noise was adding to her already agitated mood. The outline of a large tree stood front and centre; its branches looming over the quiet grounds.

If she concentrated hard enough, she could almost see the two of them embraced together beneath the canopy of twisted limbs; whispered words and impassioned declarations of love passing in the air between them.

She could almost touch the roughened bark beneath her fingers; taste the rain on her lips and feel the bitter cold from that night seeping through her skin and into her heart.

Linka paced nervously. Her hands were trembling to such an extent that she shoved them into her pockets — clenching her fists until the sensation subsided.

"This it?"

Wheeler's voice broke through the distraction. She let out a shaky sigh in response, turning and staring at the building behind them. She leaned against Wheeler for support, barely noticing the arm that had slipped around her waist.

The street had been packed with peak-hour traffic when she had seen it, yet there was no traffic at this time of morning. The 7-Eleven was on the corner, just as it had been in her memory.

The store's neon signs glowed brightly in the window, but the interior was only lit by security lights. The sidewalk was empty. Most people were at home, safely tucked into their beds where they should be.

The future had converged with the present with startling clarity, slamming her into the reality of now. The edges were blurred.

She'd seen this place, yet through someone else's eyes. Been to this place without having set foot here. Felt this place without laying down her hands.

This was her ground zero.

In two years time, Gi would have purchased a random packet of hair dye from the 7-Eleven. A cheap, hideously dark color designed to alter Linka's appearance — just one of many massive drastic changes to occur in and around this place.

Heart pumping hard in her chest, she suddenly felt warm and dizzy. She tucked herself further against Wheeler for support as his arm tightened around her.

"Babe?"

"Your friend said this park is not on any local maps?"

"Shows up as a residential lot, apparently," Wheeler said, glancing around. "Building was bulldozed in the 1960's. Local community association turned it into a green space. Planted a tonne of shit."

She nodded, feeling his eyes on her. Worried, no doubt.

"You think this is —"

She walked across the street, taking his hand and leading him inside the building.

They entered the front reception. The desk was unmanned and Linka breathed a sigh of relief, hoping to continue on unnoticed.

"Lin?"

"What?"

"Look," Wheeler said softly, nodding towards a large framed image hanging on the wall opposite. "Naval warship."

She squeezed his hand. The elevator dinged and they ducked against the wall, spotting a security guard exiting. Linka clutched tightly to Wheeler's arm as the man strolled past, whistling to himself. He took a seat at the reception desk and opened up a newspaper — unaware of their presence.

She pointed towards the fire stairs, and he nodded. They slipped inside, starting their ascent. Linka's breath quickened as they passed the next exit door on the next floor; the one she knew would lead out into a back alley — the one she'd flung herself through in such a blind panic.

"Eto mesto," she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else. This is the place.

The uncertainty and frustration she'd experienced at the other locations was gone, replaced by something new.

Validation.

"Can you get us inside?"

"Huh?" he said as they exited the claustrophobic stairwell, moving into the hallway. "We are inside,"

She smiled. "The room, eediot."

"What if there's someone livin' in there?"

She shrugged. "I just wish to see," she said. "It did not seem like long-term accommodation when I saw it."

"Which was when again?"

"It is a long story."

He grunted, grabbing his wallet and rifling through the credit cards. "Apartment hoppin' at three in the mornin'."

"Sorry, Yankee."

She stopped outside room 107, eyeing the decorative spindle wheel around the eyehole. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

It took Wheeler a few minutes to manoeuvre the lock open; tilting the card until he hit the right angle. A look of intense concentration marked his handsome face and Linka couldn't help but smile.

"Do I want to know where you learnt that?"

"No, you don't," he muttered. She heard the soft click and he pushed the door open slightly, lighting his ring and peering inside.

"Looks pretty bare," he commented. "Don't see much furniture."

"Is anyone —"

He flicked the light on, encouraging her to come inside. "No one's home."

Linka stepped over the threshold, barely noticing Wheeler close the door behind her.

The apartment looked very different. A bookcase was tipped on it's side and shoved against the far window. A rolled-up rug was propped upright in the corner of the room.

Nothing else, though. The place was empty with the exception of the dust coating the window sills and floor.

Linka backed up; taking a seat against the wall and clutching her bag in her lap, taking it all in, watching Wheeler pace from room to room, checking things out.

He emerged a few moments later, scratching his head in confusion. "All empty, babe."

She nodded, giving him a small smile, running her fingers back and forth against the fabric of her bag. Contemplating things over. She felt calmer, more focused. Overcome by the certainty that this was it.

She'd found it. Everything she'd seen and experienced had been proven by the mere existence of this place.

"It was different, before."

"Huh?"

She gestured around them. "This place. It was furnished when I saw it."

"This is it, then?"

"Da," she said, smiling at him fondly. "Thank you so much, Yankee."

"Uh huh." He sat against the wall opposite, yawning. He looked tired; eyes red and hair tousled about his forehead. It was hanging low over his eyes.

You need a haircut, Yankee.

Grief surged through her.

"You owe me."

"I do," she whispered. "For more than you will ever know."

The conversation had ground to a halt. He wasn't sure what he'd expected. Perhaps excitement, or a sense of accomplishment. Even the beginnings of a tense and rambling explanation, but she seemed content to just sit in silence.

The late hour was effecting him. So tired — Wheeler was having trouble keeping his eyes open. The promise of sleep beckoned and he was unable to ignore it any longer. He started to relax; his breathing becoming slow and steady. His head lolled forward as he began to —

"We landed in the sand," she said softly, and he jerked upright, opening his eyes. "It was dusty. Like the desert. The wind was awful."

"Huh?"

"Sand was blowing in our faces. In our hair and in our mouths. We walked for a long time until people found us."

"People?" Sleep was all but forgotten. Wheeler leaned forward, listening intently. "Lin, you —"

"Men with masks. They threw bags over our heads and carried us away. Threw us into the back of a truck. Blight fought back and they killed her."

Wheeler stared back at her, his mouth a grim line. "Where the hell were —"

"Not where," she whispered. "When."

"What?" he said. "Babe, you're not makin' —"

"Plunder had been funding a research project. Blight was developing the technology for him." She shrugged, finally meeting his eyes. "She succeeded. I was one of the guinea pigs. The portal worked."

"Portal?" Something clicked in Wheeler's mind. A flash of recognition. "Kwame said he saw a —"

"Eleven years."

"What?"

"That is where we landed. Eleven years in the future."

Wheeler sat back, stunned as he contemplated Linka's words. The skeptic in him laughed at Linka's admission, ready with a smart-ass quip pertaining to some recreational drug-taking on her part.

Great story babe.

But the realist in him acknowledged Blight's capabilities. That frightening intelligence. He dared to believe, just for a moment that perhaps —

"My first night there was awful. Kroi…" She took a deep breath, seeming to gather the necessary strength to convey the words needed. "Kroi tried to rape me."

"Jesus." It was going from bad to worse. Wheeler sucked in a harsh breath, flushing red at the same time, horrified that his worst fear had come to fruition. "Son of a bitch —"

"Bleak stepped in and pulled him off me. Kroi was beaten to death outside soon after by the men who were holding us."

"Jesus, Linka," he rasped. Nothing else was coming to mind. No words of encouragement or consolation. No comfort. The effort would be redundant, anyway. Wrapping his head around this had become his first priority.

She sat cross-legged on the floor, still fiddling with the seam of her bag with those long, slender fingers. The image of Linka using them to fight off Kroi flashed into his head with startling clarity.

There was a bitter taste left in his mouth. It grieved him to know that she had spent all this time fending for herself — other than the morally ambiguous Argos Bleak for company.

He didn't count that for much.

"Geez, Lin," he said helplessly. "I don't… I don't know what to say."

"Bleak helped me many times, he —"

"Bleak's an asshole," he said darkly. "Still can't —"

"He ended up being my guardian angel."

"Some guardian angel," Wheeler said, his eyes flashing with anger. "If it wasn't for him, you wouldn't have ended up —"

"I had to go," she interrupted, her voice high and unsteady. "I have no regrets. I had to see for myself."

"See what?"

"I had to see that we failed."

His heart skipped a beat. "Who failed?"

"Us," she whispered. "The Planeteers. The CIA. The politicians. The police. The banks and corporations. Everything. It was all gone."

"What? Lin, you're not making any —"

"We failed," she said again, her voice thick with emotion. "It was all gone. Our future — just dust and ashes. A few survivors trying to get things back to the way they were."

Wheeler was alarmed now, unsure if Linka was indeed telling the truth or in the midst of a fully-fledged breakdown.

"Some men came for me. We thought they were helping us," she said, shrugging. "Once again, Bleak got us out. And that is when he found me."

"Who?"

"Kwame."

He leaned forward, sure that he had misheard. "What did you —"

Linka's hand slipped into her pocket. Something was clutched tightly within her hand and he gestured towards it.

"What's that?"

She shrugged, tossing him what looked like a crumpled Polaroid photograph. "It was in my bag after all."

It fluttered towards him, stopping just short of his outstretched legs. He picked it up, intrigued. The corner of the polaroid was folded over, the image creased and faded.

"Who are they?"

She gestured towards it, watching him carefully. "Take a look."

He narrowed his eyes, scanning the group shot. Spotting Bleak straight away — arms folded and glaring at the photographer. Mostly unknown faces. Random people huddled together in an assortment of different poses, mugging for the camera.

It didn't take him long to spot her. Linka was standing amidst the strangers; her arms wrapped tightly around a man's waist and gazing up at him with a wide grin. He was hugging her back, his face obscured by the hoodie attached to his sweatshirt.

A moment frozen in time.

He spotted another familiar face — a tall man with corn-rolled hair at the front of the group, crouching down. He ran his finger over the man's face, noting a scar running vertically along his cheek. Recognition dawned — older, but the resemblance was undeniable.

"Holy shit," he breathed, staring at Linka uncomprehendingly as she shuffled over to sit beside him. She settled herself down, tilting her head and resting her cheek against his arm — an action that would have pleased him if not for the current topic of conversation.

"Recognise anyone?"

"No freakin way —"

"Kwame," she said, pointing to the man at the front. Her finger moved; hovering over a short-haired tanned man just behind Kwame. "Ma-Ti."

He wiped his mouth, unable to tear his gaze away. "Are you kid —"

"Gi," she said, continuing despite his stunned reaction. Wheeler rubbed his forehead, already having spotted Gi's smiling face — albeit with much longer hair.

"Holy hell —"

She smiled, tapping the man hugging Linka tightly. "That is you."

"Me?" he said sharply, staring hard. "What —"

"Eleven years older than you are now."

"Don't know what to say, Lin." He ran a hand through his hair; hunched over and still clutching the photo tightly. "This is nuts, I can't believe —"

"You all kept your promise. You all knew I was coming."

"How is this even possible?"

"It is a long story. I have a lot to tell you all. There is more than concerns you in particular, but I need to —"

"You know my future?"

"I know how your future would have originally progressed, da."

"Geez." He shook his head, bewildered, doing his best to keep up with the rapid-fire transfer of information. "That's an eye-opener."

"A lot had changed over the eleven years."

"Uh huh," he said, glancing again at the photo "Eleven years?"

She nodded.

"This is us?"

She nodded again, eyes closed and still resting her cheek against his arm.

"Looks like we were all still together, though?"

"No," she whispered, and he glanced up in surprise. "But you all re-grouped after I arrived."

"So we'd split?"

"Yes. Two years from now we would have gone in different directions."

"Wow," he murmured. "Always wondered how long we'd —"

"Kwame was married, and so was Ma-Ti."

He nearly choked. "You kiddin' me?"

"So were you."

"Me?"

Linka nodded, reaching for his hand while he came to terms with that particular revelation. She ran her touch back and forth over his knuckles several times before pressing her palms either side of his hand.

"This is just…" He sat back, still incredulous at the turn of events. "I was married?"

"Da." She let go of his hand then and looked away, suddenly interested in the buttons on her coat, fiddling with them idly as a flush swept over her neck and into her cheeks.

"Who was the unlucky girl?"

"Her name was Rachel."

He stared at the photograph. "She in here? Did you meet her?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, flipping the Polaroid over and finding himself distracted by the untidy scrawl on the back. Wheeler's face paled as he scanned the message on the back.

212-435-3877

Don't be an asshole, Bleak.

Tell CIA to fuck off

W

It was his phone number.

His handwriting, even down to the small flame hastily sketched after the W. Wheeler was under no illusions. There were no 'ifs' or 'buts'. No doubt or uncertainty in his mind.

"Holy shit," he breathed.

The mystery of Bleak's late night phone call suddenly made sense. Bleak had obviously held up his 'end' of the arrangement, contacting Wheeler once home on Linka's behalf.

There were so many gaps. So many questions, he barely knew where to start, but for the moment they could wait. One seemed more pressing.

"Okay. You've got my attention now," he said. "Why Washington? Why are you so desperate to find this place?"

"I have memories," she explained. "It is complicated. This was not a straight time shift. The timeline split. I never went through the portal in their world. I never disappeared. We were all together as Planeteers for another two years. We then broke up — here, in this apartment."

"I'm not gettin' this, babe —"

"The Planeteers ended here. Two years from now."

He blinked. "Why?"

"SAIP," she said. "It all goes back to SAIP. I would go on to assist the CIA with destroying the program and it was the worst possible thing I could do."

"But if you disappeared now, how did you —"

"I never disappeared in their timeline, I —"

He groaned. "This is just weird."

"Tell me about it," she muttered. "Try living through it."

"Okay," he said, doing his best to refocus. "How did SAIP cause us to —"

"Because destroying SAIP meant destroying MAL. She couldn't have realised the effect —"

"Who's she?"

"Me!"

"Oh, holy hell," he muttered. "I'm strugglin' here."

"It is complicated. I never went through the portal in the other timeline. The five of us would continue with the Planeteers for another two years until we went our seperate ways, Yankee."

"But that'd mean there were two of you runnin' —"

"In theory, da. Yes."

"So the older 'you' existed there, too?"

Linka hesitated, seeming to choose her words carefully. "Until a certain point."

"Until a certain… what does that mean?"

"I died."

"You WHAT?"

His voice sounded sharper than a whip-crack, causing her to jump. Wheeler's hand clamped down on her own. "Fuck," he said hoarsely. "What the hell happ —"

"I was injected with poison. Blight murdered me — left me dying in the rain in front of my children."

Fuck.

He stared at her, slack-jawed. He was quite honestly speechless, incapable of responding — let alone comprehending — her words.

She died.

Linka pushed herself to her feet suddenly and walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

He dropped his head back against the wall, watching her shrug out of the coat; discarding it on the floor. She wandered through the apartment, peeking into cupboards and running her hands over things. The light switched on in the next room and she disappeared inside. He heard her fumbling around, muttering under her breath.

The photo was still in his hand. This proof, the evidence of her time missing, yet it was still a hard pill to swallow. She looked so happy and carefree; not at all what he would have envisioned. None of this was making sense, yet he believed her whole-heartedly.

"I wasted so much time."

She stood framed in the doorway, watching him quietly.

"Hmm?"

"You told me. You told me everything."

"Told you what?"

"I would go on to finish my high school qualifications. Started university studies." She laughed bitterly. "All of these big hopes and dreams."

"Oh god, babe —"

"All of the planning and preparing. Spending my life so wrapped up in my work. Planning for a future that never occurred."

She looked on the verge of tears.

"Let's just back up for a second," he said. He felt heavy, emotionally drained. Suddenly craving a bourbon — something to take the edge off. "You mentioned kids before?"

"Yes."

He rubbed his face tiredly as she disappeared again. He pushed himself to his feet, following her into one of the bedrooms, finding her in the ensuite bathroom of all places, staring at the shower. Touching the glass in an odd, overly tactile way.

"How many did you have?"

"Hmm?"

"You mentioned kids?" He folded his arms across his chest, leaning against the towel rack as she straightened. "How many?"

"Two."

"Married? Before you … you know."

"Yes."

"Jesus." The phrase was becoming a tad repetitious, but he could think of nothing more meaningful to say. "Okay."

She smiled gently at him. "There was a little sticker under there."

"Under where?"

She motioned toward some the bathroom cabinet. "One of those little oval ones you see on apples."

"Uh huh," he said slowly. "Okay."

"Do not ask me how I know that."

He frowned, dropping down low and peering underneath. After some twisting and manoeuvring he spotted it, reaching under and peeling it off the kick board. He handed it to her in wonder and she gazed at it; a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"I was not sure if it would be there yet."

"I'm tryin' to understand," he said heavily. "So you've been here?"

She shook her head. "Nyet."

"Babe, you're kinda readin' like stereo instructions right —"

"She had been here."

"Who?"

"My future self."

He blinked, opening his mouth and closing it again as he ran his hand across the cheap melamine vanity top. "Did the other Planeteers tell —"

"Bleak and I both ended up with our future memories. I saw this place in my dreams. I remember this place because she lived it."

"What happened here?"

She sat cross-legged on the floor and after a moment he joined her, dropping down opposite her, beside the shower stall. He watched Linka run her fingers over the jagged edges from the poorly-laid tiles with a curious expression on her face. At last she straightened, giving him another small smile.

"Blight put a contract out on me. She wanted me dead — blamed me for MAL going off-line. I had no choice but to run. This was the first CIA safe house we were taken to. This is where we were all together for the last time before they took me away."

"Oh my God," he breathed.

"The plan was to give me a new identity and for me to disappear."

"And you —"

"My new name was Rachel."

He shut his mouth abruptly. "What?"

She smiled shyly, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Are you connecting the dots yet, Yankee?"

"Wait..." He swallowed, staring at Linka's serenely beautiful face as an echo of their earlier conversation came flooding back. "Hang on, I —"

"This place is where the Planeteers ended," she said, finally meeting his eyes at last. "It is also where you and I began."

A beat passed. He blinked, mouth working but unable to formulate an intelligent sentence. Shock and disbelief had by now taken over.

"What?" he finally croaked. "Wait a min —"

"This is where it all happened."

"Whaddya mean? Wait, I —" he stammered, still wrapping his head around one particular admission. "You and me?"

She nodded; a shy grin lighting up her face. "You and me."

He leaned forward, needing clarification. "You and me playin' a sedate game of chess, or you and me —"

"You and me together," she whispered, making a motion with her hands that told him everything he needed to know. "The first time we..."

"You and me?" He sounded like a broken record, but at this point he had a care factor of zero. "As in —"

"Da."

"Here?" he said, staring at Linka in disbelief. "Like in this apartment, or —"

"The Planeteers ended in the main room." She smiled, crawling forward on her hands and knees. She settled herself into his lap, twisting slightly until her cheek was resting against his chest, cuddling into him with a heavy sigh. "We began in here, Yankee."

"Here?" he asked again, glancing around at their unimpressive surroundings. "Like, here in the bathroom?"

"Technically on the floor," she admitted with an embarrassed laugh, hiding her face within the folds of his jacket. He tilted her chin, forcing her gaze upwards. She looked tired and weary for sure, but lighter in emotion and in spirit.

He wrapped his arms around her; a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Not a lot of room here, babe."

"Evidently, we made it work," she laughed, cupping his cheek with affection. "I have been told it was rather vigorous."

"Really?" The presence of the apple sticker suddenly took on a whole new meaning. "I take it you got a little over-aquatinted with the bottom of the vanity."

"Da."

"All right." He shook his head in wonder, unable to wipe the stupid grin off his face. "Jesus."

"It is a lot to —"

"This is hands down the weirdest conversation I've ever had."

She nodded. "I know."

"Can't say I'm disappointed." He shook his head, still incredulous at the turn of events. He squeezed her tightly, brushing an errant strand of hair away from her face. "Never thought I had a chance with you, babe."

"You gave up everything for me," she whispered. A lone tear tracked down her cheek and he wiped it away with his thumb. She tilted her face to the side, sniffling quietly. "You gave up your friends and your family. You left everything you knew behind so that I would not have to be alone."

"This is —"

"You sacrificed everything to be with me. You took such good care of me, you always have. At the very least, I owe you the truth —"

"Truth about what?"

"I am so sorry, Yankee," she sobbed, pressing her forehead to his. "I spent so long with my head in the clouds. I fought with you and ridiculed you and ignored you. I rejected you and I kept you at a distance, yet when I went through the portal, you were the only person I thought of!"

"Jesus babe, you're talkin' about stuff we haven't even —"

"I was stuck there," she said softly, more tears tracking down her face. "I was alone and I was scared. I needed you, Wheeler! All I could think about was you, and you weren't there!"

She burst into tears. He hugged her tightly, rocking her back and forth as she wept against his chest.

"I have always taken you for granted," she said, gazing up at him miserably. "I know that. I am so sorry."

He brushed his mouth against her cheek in response and she seemed to slump in his arms.

They sat in silence for a while. Wheeler was utterly bewildered. She mumbled something tiredly and he hugged her tighter, pressing his mouth against the crown of her head and inhaling the sweet scent of her hair.

Fucking Twilight Zone.

He inspected her closely, running his gaze over her face. Her eyes were closed — long lashes a striking contrast against creamy skin — skin he'd often fantasised about touching. Perfect little nose and kissable lips.

He readjusted her; tipping her head back until she was cradled within the crease of his arm. He peered down at her, trailing his index finger over her nose and lips. He traced the ridge of her ear, sweeping under her chin and down the slender line of her throat. Enjoying the way her breath trembled with each unhurried motion.

"Babe?"

"Mmm?" she replied sleepily.

"Night before you left us — just before everything went to hell — you and I hung out on the couch together." He smiled, stroking her cheek lightly. "You remember?"

"Hmm."

"You had Sludge's computer. Showed me stuff."

Linka nodded, her chest rising and falling steadily as she moved towards sleep.

"You fell asleep on me."

Her eyes fluttered open. "Really?" she whispered. "I do not remember."

"You looked so cute," he said, grinning down at her. "Face all smooshed up against my arm."

"I —"

"Dribble runnin' down my shirt. Snorin' louder than a jet engine."

She giggled, an unexpected sound that delighted him. "I definitely do not remember that."

"On the bad days, when I was strugglin," he said, kissing her temple hard. He heard her gasp, clutching his shirt between her fingers. "When I was missin' you, when I started blamin' myself and —"

"Yankee," she breathed but he shook his head, silencing her.

"I'd think back to you and I on the couch. Just hangin' out. It'd get me through."

"I am so sorry," she wept. "You have always looked after me. Always taken care of me, even when I did not deserve —"

"I fucked up," he whispered hoarsely. "I —"

"I have always loved you, Yankee. I —"

The rest of the sentence was drowned out. Acting on instinct and a desperate impulsivity, he kissed her hard, tasting the salty sting of tears on her lips. She gasped as he lowered her backwards to the floor, burying his face in her neck as she held him in a panicky grip.

"Missed you, baby," he murmured against her ear. "Thought I'd never see you again."

She grinned through the tears, hooking her arms around his neck; fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. Skin blotchy, eyes red and she'd never looked so beautiful to him.

"Ya lyublyu tebya."

He nuzzled her throat, and she sighed beneath him, pulling him down until he was stretched out on top of her. Slipping his arm beneath her neck again to help support her head, he rolled her gently onto her side, dragging her body towards him. He used his other hand to languidly trail a path along her face.

"I know everything," she said, arching up to kiss him again. She touched his cheek, brushing his lips with her own. "You told me everything."

"Define everything."

She smiled, tilting her cheek towards his wandering fingers. "You used to bribe Kwame. Trade chocolate bars in order to pair off with me on missions."

"Shit," he laughed in surprise, recalling the 'arrangements' made towards the beginning of their time as Planeteers. "Yeah. Guilty as charged."

"My laptop went missing for a week," she said, raising her eyebrows and he groaned, knowing where this was leading. "I had no idea where it had —"

"Oh shit —"

"You dropped Sprite on my computer. Short-circuited the keyboard during a mission."

"Crap," he laughed, completely amazed that she knew the details and circumstances. "Yep."

"You took it away to get repaired without me knowing."

"Jesus."

"You have always kept a photo of me," she whispered, pressing on despite his wandering fingers, unable to help himself. "In your wallet, behind your licence. From our first year as —"

He silenced her with his mouth, taking his time. Slow and languid, losing himself to her scent and her touch until time itself became redundant.

They eventually broke apart, breathing heavily. She touched his throat, slipping her fingers beneath the collar of his t-shirt and finding the scar he knew to be beneath.

"Cigarette burn," she said solemnly, dipping forward and kissing the puckered skin. "Your father."

He nodded, his throat closing over and feeling a tad emotional.

"You brought me flowers home every Friday," she whispered, her eyes bright with tears. "We had a wonderful life together."

"We did?"

She nodded, nuzzling his cheek with a sigh. "We were married and pregnant within a year of leaving this place."

He hugged her tighter, understanding her almost frenzied need to locate the apartment.

"We had two children, Yankee." Her fingers raked gently through his hair. "Hannah and Eli."

He breathed a heavy sigh, nuzzling her collarbone; overcome by the admission. "Eli's my Grandfather's name."

"You told me our son arrived looking like a cranky old man," she whispered, smiling gently at him. "It was the first name that popped into your head."

He nodded, accepting her words as fact. He had no reason to believe otherwise.

"You were a wonderful Papa," she murmured, and the lump in his throat increased to uncomfortable proportions. He kissed her again, smoothing her hair away from her forehead — revelling in the fact that he apparently had a future with this stunning creature.

So many questions. So many inconsistencies, so many gaping holes that needed to be explained. For now, none of that mattered. Just the feel of her stretched out beside him; limb's entwined and holding one another on the cold tiles.

Wheeler had no concept of how much time passed. The tiles were uncomfortable against his hip. His muscles were screaming and his arm was beginning to lose feeling.

It didn't matter. He wouldn't trade this for anything.

"Gonna have to tell the others," he said softly. Voices moved about through the walls and the realisation that they were technically squatting illegally in a random apartment occurred to him. "Babe?"

She nodded; her breath warm and heavy, prickling his skin. He knew she was falling asleep again. With great reluctance he got to his knees, shaking her gently.

"Babe," he said, taking her hands and helping her into a sitting position. "C'mon. We can't stay here."

He pulled her to her feet, grabbing her coat and bag and leading her back out of the apartment.

The first signs of daybreak were evident. They made their way down the street, heavy with both emotion and bone-jarring exhaustion. Arm wrapped securely around Linka's shoulders, he eventually found a cab; bundling her inside and spending the forty-minute drive watching her sleeping soundly across his lap.

It took ten minutes of effort to get her back to their actual apartment. Negotiating the lobby and elevator, she was heavy on her feet, requiring support to avoid dropping like a stone.

They stumbled inside. The television was still on, flickering gently. Music videos. Light was filtering through the curtains and he was unable to stifle another yawn. The couch looked appealing. He moved to let Linka go, expecting her to head back to the room she shared with Gi. She swayed slightly on the spot but remained where she was, slipping her hand into his.

"Gonna be all right to —"

She shook her head, gesturing towards the couch.

"You sure?" Wheeler dropped down tiredly, kicking his shoes off and stretching himself out, watching Linka remove her own shoes and coat.

She settled herself down in front of him, shuffling back against his chest with a sigh. The blanket was pulled down over their bodies and he wrapped an arm around her waist, feeling her hands clasp tightly over his own, threading through his fingers and squeezing.

"You always look after me, Yankee," she mumbled after a while, turning over and burrowing against his chest. "You always look after me."

He held her against him, stroking her hair as she fell easily into sleep; still coming to terms with everything she'd said. Everything she'd shown him.

Knowing that regardless of time and circumstances, he had always loved her — with a fierceness that sometimes frightened him.

And for the first time in his life, he knew with absolute certainty that she loved him too.

Author's Note: One more chapter to go, guys. Maybe two. I'm nearly at the end. Would love to hear your thoughts!