The paper was soft in his hands, its crispness gone after having been read more than a dozen times. There wasn't enough light in the meditation room to read it again, but it didn't matter. He could picture every word in his mind's eye.

She could have waited until they got back. She would have waited, last year. They had been late returning from their tour: two days later than they'd expected, actually. But he hadn't thought they would find Ashley gone when they finally made it back to the hostel.

He had known she was going home to celebrate the winter holidays with her family. Her parents had even invited him to come with her, which was generous of them after he'd gotten in the way so many times the year before. She hadn't mentioned it in her letter, but she was gone and the message was clear: her parents might welcome his presence, but she didn't.

No, not like last year at all. He wouldn't sleep on the floor of her room, or join her family at dinner. He wouldn't stumble through gift-giving or stocking rituals, nor would he be required to sing songs he didn't know the words to. He certainly wouldn't be ambushed under hanging sprigs of greenery.

He didn't miss the unfamiliar festivities, which frankly made him uncomfortable. But he missed being included. He missed having her tug on his arm, laugh at him, and tell his embarrassing stories to her relatives. He missed having Ashley want him around.

She hadn't even recorded the message. She had written out a letter by hand, leaving it propped by the pillow on his bed. He didn't know whether to be glad she had taken the time or disappointed that he didn't get to hear her voice.

In point of fact, Zhane had been in his element. He loved cameras and attention and all the things that Andros shied away from. He had taken a lot of the pressure off of Andros, and for that the Red Ranger was grateful. He had even managed to divert some of the focus from their personal lives, something Andros hadn't given much thought to since it hadn't occurred to him that it would come up.

There had been advantages to being a child Ranger after all, it seemed. Funny that he hadn't been able to appreciate it until now. Or perhaps it was only the nature of war that the public didn't care so much about their lives off of the battlefield...

They had asked about her. He wondered if she had seen any of that. He couldn't remember which questions had been asked where, now. It had all blurred together after the first couple of days.

Zhane had kept him from having to answer any direct questions about his relationship with Ashley, but he had done it at the expense of his own reputation. Andros didn't like it, but Zhane had only laughed and said that was what he was there for. He truly didn't seem to care what the media thought of him, and perversely, they loved him for it.

She hadn't called yet. The terminal in his room would have a record of it if she had. Was she waiting for him to tell her he was back? Or had she just added that to make her departure seem less abrupt?

Her letter had started out friendly enough, if more muted than her usual style. But the last paragraph was almost accusatory, and she didn't sign it the way she used to. Instead of "love always", it simply said "love"... he told himself he shouldn't read anything into it, but he had to. Ashley didn't just forget things like that.

Pulling his knees up to his chest, he let the paper drift to the floor. She had said she would try. He was trying too, and Zhane had been patience personified since that night outside the Hammonds' house. But it just didn't seem to be enough, and he didn't know what else to do.

There was a gentle tap on the door, and he sighed. He didn't want to go anywhere. But he also didn't want to share the room with anyone. Maybe the closed door would be enough to deter whoever was outside.

He heard a click as the door slid open. The intrusion was enough to make him glad he had his back to the wall. Not close enough to lean against it, but close enough that no one would walk between it and him. He would be able to observe whoever entered without seeming to, and he would know as soon as they settled somewhere so he could get up and seek refuge somewhere else.

"Want to be alone?"

It was Zhane's voice, and he barely kept himself from looking up. He couldn't meet Zhane's gaze right now. There was too much unsaid between them. Too much that should be said, too much that hadn't been, and far too much that he knew he would never find the words for no matter what the circumstances.

Andros just nodded.

"Good," Zhane said with a sigh, closing the door behind him as he came into the room. He sat down on the floor behind Andros, resting his hands on Andros' shoulders as he leaned back against the wall. "Me too."

Torn between a smile and tears, he accepted the silent invitation as he had accepted Zhane's unquestioning support for as long as he could remember. He leaned back against his friend without a word. As Zhane's arms went around him, he sank gratefully into the quiet embrace.