Patrick Lee: The Breach

"Travis?"

Paige. Behind him at the entry to the dome.

In his other hand he still held the note. It was in front of him; she hadn't seen it yet.

He could show it to her. Tell her everything. Start off on the right track, find some way to prevent whatever it implied.

Her footsteps came toward him across the concrete.

He folded the paper and slid it into the waistband of the transparency suit, the bottom half of which he was still wearing. It vanished there half a second before Paige came around to meet his eyes.

He reacted as if he'd just become aware of her. As if he'd been gazing at the Breach, lost in it.

Lying to her already, before he'd even spoken.

She saw the Blackbird in his hand. Her eyes narrowed, confused.

"Did you take off its key?" she said. "It's dangerous even without it-"

He held it up to the light, showed her the cellophane-like key still attached to it.

"It's dead," he said. "Shut down after I killed Pilgrim. I don't know why."

She held his eyes, stared deep into him. If she saw through what he was saying, it didn't show. She moved closer. Her eyes softened. Her hand touched his arm.

"Hey," she said. "It's over. Whatever it was, it's over."

He nodded and managed something that wasn't entirely a frown. She folded into his arms.

Over her shoulder, he found himself staring into the Breach. Blue and purple like a bruise, reaching away to infinity. He considered the track of his future, another path leading somewhere he couldn't see. Leading to something that would remake him into a man Paige wanted dead. Something lying in his road, out there in the darkness, years and miles away from this moment. Waiting.

"It's over," Paige said again.

He held her tightly, and hoped she was right.