She could remember the feeling of the portal, so close. Past a veil. A huge source of energy. An amplifier.

Maybe that helped make the impression deep enough, strong enough.

Tori’s voice.

“They’re taking us to Bianca. So long as we’re with her, none of us will be able to try this again, and if we do, at least we’ll be somewhere we can’t interfere with other stuff.”

March tried to sit up. Doing so gave her a blinding headache.

“It’s okay,” she said, not sure if Tori was still there. Or any of the others. “None of this matters.”

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter. I love you. Thank you for talking to me.”

“Be safe, March.”

It doesn’t matter if I am.

All of this is a teaser. A chance to flirt and toy with our reality before we move on. Little more than a game or a dream that sets the tone for the day.

She shivered. She felt nauseous. She felt glorious.

She didn’t hear or see, but by the feeling of the air, she sensed that Tori was gone. The others were gone.

She would see Flechette, of course. There was no way that she wouldn’t, when they were fated to revolve around each other for an eternity. Joined by gentle Homer. Surrounded by the muted presences of others.

How delighted Flechette would be when she found out.

Heavens 12.1

The red and blue lights from the police cars and the red lights from ambulances lit up the courtyard of the university, with multiple vehicles parked on the broad, normally pedestrian-only walkway. The lights were inconstant, ambulance and police cars flashing at a slightly different rate, so they desynchronized, creating a strobe pattern, then resynced.

No noise. Only darkness and the lights.

There were students gathering around the edges. Some of my mom and dad’s teammates were keeping the perimeter clear. I could see people in pyjama pants, wearing boots, hats and coats, and others with bags of fast food or supplies bought from on-campus stores who had forgotten about their now-cooling meals. They had to know it was bad. Superheroes covered in blood.

In another course of events, I might have been among them. And then—then what? Would I be stepping forward, volunteering help and expertise, touting my time with the Patrol block? In that timeline, would I have made headway against the nightmares and the loathing of my own skin? Had I made headway against the nightmares and the discomfort with skin that wasn’t human and hadn’t come from humans? I hadn’t vanquished my demons. I’d just… scared her away. She was some other Earth’s concern now.

Now there were more demons. Cradle. Love Lost. March.

No scaring them away. That wasn’t how this ended.