The countryside unrolled outside the Spectrum vehicle's windows—green and gold fields, the occasional stone wall, sheep clustered like cotton tufts in the distance. The road was narrow and winding, and Scarlet drove it slowly, like he wasn't in a rush to return to Skybase. For once, there was no mission. No alert. Just silence, and space to think.
Destiny sat beside him, one elbow resting on the open window, her hair shifting slightly in the breeze. She glanced at him, quiet for a long moment, then spoke gently.
"You're always different when you come here."
Scarlet gave a half-smile, keeping his eyes on the road. "You mean quieter?"
"I mean... softer."
He didn't reply right away. The road dipped into a shallow curve, lined with wildflowers. When he finally spoke, his voice was low.
"Sometimes I forget I'm not really supposed to still be here."
Destiny looked at him, expression unreadable.
"I think your parents would have disagreed."
He nodded slightly. "They would've. They had a way of making everything seem possible." He paused. "But even they wouldn't know how to handle... this."
He glanced down at his hand on the steering wheel—steady, unscarred, unchanged.
"You ever think about it?" he asked suddenly. "What'll happen to me in ten years? Twenty? Fifty? Will I still look like this?"
Destiny considered. "Sometimes."
"What if I don't age? What if I stay exactly like this while everything else... doesn't?"
His voice trailed off. The weight of it hung in the air.
Destiny turned to look out the window, watching a hawk drift lazily across the sky.
"Then I'll age," she said softly. "And you'll stay. That's the way it'll be."
He glanced at her, surprised by the calm in her voice.
"You sound like you've made peace with it."
She gave a small smile. "Not peace. Practice. We live with uncertainty every day. Missions. War. The Mysterons. We don't get guarantees."
Scarlet let out a quiet breath.
"I'm afraid," he admitted.
Destiny looked at him again, more directly now. "Of being alone?"
He nodded.
She reached out, her hand resting gently over his on the gearstick.
"Then don't be."
They drove in silence for a while after that. The road stretched out ahead, sun breaking through the scattered clouds. A breeze drifted through the cabin, warm with the scent of cut grass and old stone.
"You'll still be you," Destiny said at last. "Even if your hair doesn't grey. Even if I'm not there to remind you who you are."
He swallowed. "I'd rather you be there."
She smiled gently. "Then I will be. For as long as I can."
Scarlet didn't answer, but his fingers turned under hers slightly, curling to hold her hand more firmly.
They drove on.
In a world where time had stopped for him, this moment—quiet and human and fleeting—was everything.