He hurt all over. He was exhausted, and the stabbing pain in his side was a constant reminder of the tragic fate he had so narrowly escaped. Aquitian healing had mended his wounds, but his body needed time and rest to recover, to finish the job the healers had begun. He was alive, and he supposed that was something--but he knew that no amount of time or healing could take away the sharp-edged ache in his heart.

It hurt, physically *hurt*, to be so far away from her. The months had dulled the memory somewhat, or perhaps he had somehow grown more used to the lack--but today he had been forcibly reminded of everything he did not have and needed in his life. She had made him whole for a few brief, wonderful minutes, and he would gladly have his injuries back if it meant he could relive that fleeting time when she had been at his side.

Head in his hands, he stared without seeing at the counter on which he was leaning. Sterile and cold, it ran the length of the deserted medical bay, passing just underneath the windows that so mocked his attempts to sleep. Each time he thought he might surrender to the peaceful bliss of dreams, where every night she smiled just for him and made his life worth living again, those windows would draw him away. Their very nature, that of a portal to the outside world, would remind him that somewhere someone else was seeing the real Cassie smile, and bitter envy would drive him out of bed to stand in front of them.

He sighed, scrubbing at his face with his hands, trying to erase… *something*. What he wouldn't give, sometimes, to go back to a time before--before he knew her, before he had felt the startling closeness of her soul and the completion of his own. Before he had known that there was someone with such a spirit, someone who could be defiant in the face of any odds, someone so quick to laugh and with a caring look in her eyes that made him go weak inside. Before he had met the person who could give his life the only meaning it needed--and yet barely knew he existed.

She had no idea how crazy she made him. He, who had never needed anyone or anything, who had been alone and invincible, surrounded by armor that kept the universe in its place--at a distance--had fallen head over heels for an Earth girl without so much as an introduction. And he stood now, unmorphed, worlds away from her and uncaring of anything that had mattered in his life before, feeling every fiber of his being yearn for her presence.

So much so that he found himself remembering, with startling intensity, the ghostly brush of her mind and the gentle, taming flow of her energy against his own barely controlled Power. He smiled, unbidden and more than a little sadly, knowing the emptiness would hurt that much more as the memory faded.

It did not fade, and a voice from the doorway made him stiffen in disbelief. "Phantom?"

He almost didn't turn, not certain he wanted to know how real his dreams had become. But he lifted his head involuntarily, and her reflection stared inscrutably out at him from the glass. He couldn't keep from looking, then, the reflection a poor substitute for the beauty that drew him so irresistibly, no matter how he tried to fight it.

She stood in the doorway, night-dark hair spilling across her shoulders and brown eyes sparkling in the dim lighting. He put both hands behind him, clenching his fingers on the counter's edge to keep himself from striding across the room and enveloping her in an embrace that he would never let end. She couldn't really be here… "How--how did you find me?" he asked weakly, unable to keep the stammer out of his voice.

She just looked at him for a moment. "Dimitria told us your power came from Eltare," she said at last, her voice carrying a hint of the music she so loved even while she spoke. "When Eltare fell, and everyone started looking to Aquitar, I thought you had probably come here."

He didn't even register her words, listening to her speak and wanting to drown in the sound of her voice. He grasped the counter harder as he tried to resist the urge to go to her. Dream or no, he could feel her Power boosting his depleted energy level, draining the tiredness and isolation out of him and suffusing him with a feeling of warm comfort. He couldn't speak, afraid he would say something she didn't want to hear.

"Phantom…" She held up her hand, and he was surprised to see the message beacon he had left for her team. The red light started to flash as she ran her finger across the bottom, and the device hummed to life. Instead of a hologram, it projected a dark, cloudlike glow, and his eyes widened as he recognized his own words--words he had not thought had been recorded.

He lifted his gaze to hers in horrified comprehension. This was no dream. She had heard what he had been trying to hide ever since he met her, and now she had come for an explanation--or perhaps only an assurance that he would not impose his presence on her, no matter his feelings.

"I am sorry," he muttered, wanting to turn away but not able to make himself do it. "I never intended for you to hear that."

"Why not?" she demanded, the urgency in her voice the first break in her composure.

He could not answer.

She hesitated, then, quietly, asked, "Phantom? Who are you?"

His restraint crumbled, refusing to hold against her innocent query, and he found himself saying words he had dreamed of telling her for months. "Someone who loves you," he said, afraid she would never speak to him again after this but unable to stop himself. "Beyond all reason or hope…"

Her eyes were wide as she regarded him with an expression he could not interpret. "What's your name?" she asked, even more quietly.

He closed his eyes. She could not know how hard that question was for him. "You have taken my heart and soul," he whispered miserably. "Must you have my name as well?"

The slightest whisper of air told him when she moved, and he knew before he opened his eyes that she was now standing only a few steps away. "Only if you can give it," she murmured.

The pleading expression on her face was his undoing. "Saryn," he whispered. There was nothing he would not do to take that look off of her face. "My name is Saryn."

"Saryn," she repeated, and he tried not to flinch. That name was no longer who he was, but he had no other.

Her next words, simple and soft, stopped his heart. "I love you, Saryn."

He could only stare in complete shock as a sudden wild hope flared within him. Could she, truly? Could she, somehow, have hidden feelings for him the way he had tried to hide his for her? He barely dared to breathe, as, gazing steadily back at him, she lifted her right hand toward him.

Hesitantly, he withdrew his left hand from the counter behind him and reached out to her. Slowly, their hands were drawn together, and he inhaled sharply as her fingers touched his. She slipped her fingers between his and clasped his hand before he could pull away, and for a split-second, a flicker of ethereal pink light sparkled across their hands and wrapped around his wrist.

The sudden overwhelming awareness of *her* crashed home at exactly that moment, and it was all he could do to stifle another gasp. If touching her through his armor had been disorienting and utterly distracting, this was that feeling exponentially increased. He took an inadvertent step forward, desperately wanting to hold her, but stopped himself just in time.

She had no such qualms. She moved closer until he could feel the warmth of her body as clearly as the touch of her Power, letting their joined hands fall to the side. Laying her head on his shoulder, she leaned against him, and he closed his eyes, beyond surprise. Sensation overwhelmed him, and he felt her fingers slip out of his as he wrapped his arms around her.

The feeling of sudden and total peace was at odds with the electric awareness racing through him. It had been so long since he had touched *anyone*, let alone one who was a vision straight out of his dreams. Her silky hair was soft against his skin and her body was slight and warm beneath his hands, her breath echoing his and her soul so close he wondered that he could not read her mind.

"Cassie," he whispered, delighting in the sound of a name he had so seldom allowed himself to speak aloud. Since the moment he first heard it, called by one of her teammates as they fought, it had been nothing less than his reason for living.

She lifted her head, her gaze meeting his, and he caught his breath as she *smiled* at him. How long and patiently he had waited to see that expression on her face again, never expecting and only dreaming that it might one day be directed at him.

"Cassie," he breathed again, not wanting to ruin this moment that he would dearly love to keep forever, but suspecting there was no way he could keep her from knowing any longer. "I… I can't live without you," he confessed softly, searching her expression. "Please…" He knew this request would either drive her away for good or make him happier than he had ever been in his life, but he had to try. "Say you'll let me come with you, whenever and wherever you go."

She stared at him, smile fading, and for one heart-wrenching moment he was sure she would pull away from him. He cursed himself for not staying silent, as he had so often before--and then her mouth was on his, searing his mind with a fire that erased all other thoughts. "Yes," she murmured, the word sweet on his lips as she kissed him again.

He lost himself in the feeling, two wandering, lonely souls who had at last found the place where they belonged.