The world had gone silent.
The inverted waterfall hung between heaven and earth, a silver river torn from its bed and held impossibly in place by a force that defied all known laws. Countless shattered water droplets, liberated from the flow of gravity, floated in the air around Hawk, orbiting him like miniature crystal planets. It was a tableau of absolute, divine power. The waterfall, which moments before had been a raging, thunderous beast, was now a chastened, silent servant.
All sounds had ceased. There was only the whisper of the wind and the frantic beating of his own heart.
And then, a single word, a single name, spoken from behind him, pierced the unnatural stillness. It was a voice that was clear, trembling with exhaustion, but utterly resolute.
"Hawk!!"
The sound was a pinprick that shattered the illusion. He flinched, his body trembling with the sudden release of immense tension. He turned, his movements slow, almost dreamlike.
There, at the edge of the forest, stood Gwen. Her white windbreaker was torn and stained with dirt. Her golden hair was a wild, disheveled mess, and her face was streaked with sweat and grime. But her eyes—her sharp, brilliant blue eyes—were locked onto him, and they shone with a light of pure, unadulterated, triumphant relief.
"Gwen?" The name was a breath, a whisper of disbelief.
He was completely, utterly stunned. He had mentally prepared for a squad of heavily armed Marines to rappel from helicopters. He had envisioned a brutal, desperate battle against the full might of the American military. He had never, in his wildest calculations, expected her.
How? How was this even possible?
As his mind struggled to process her impossible presence, the spell he held over reality broke.
RUMBLE!
Time restarted. The inverted waterfall collapsed, crashing back down into the pool with a roar, though the sound was now noticeably softer, more subdued, as if the very spirit of the water was afraid of once again provoking the being who could command it to defy the heavens.
The moment the water fell, Gwen was running. She didn't seem to understand why her legs were moving, only that they had to. Her legs, which had carried her for miles through an unforgiving wilderness, now carried her on pure, desperate momentum, the final expenditure of a will that had refused to give up.
She plunged into the churning pool, wading through the thigh-deep water, her eyes never leaving his.
The next second, she crashed into him, her arms wrapping around his bare torso in a desperate, clinging embrace.
Hawk, reacting on pure instinct, pulled her tight against him, turning his own body to shield her back from the punishing impact of the falling water. The shock of her cold, trembling frame against his superheated skin was a jolt to his system. He reacted instantly. With a silent whoosh, he vanished from the center of the pool, reappearing a moment later on the grassy bank, still holding her.
A thick cloud of white mist instantly billowed from their bodies. It was not smoke, but steam. A wave of impossible, bone-deep warmth, powered by the raging furnace of his Cosmo, enveloped them. In the space of a single breath, the water on their skin and in their clothes was not just dried, but vaporized, leaving them feeling as refreshed as if they had just stepped into the warm morning sun.
He looked down at the girl still clinging to him, her face buried in his chest. He opened his mouth, the question burning on his lips. How did you find me?
But the words never came. He felt the tension leave her body, her tight grip slackening as the adrenaline that had fueled her journey finally gave out. Her breathing deepened, and he heard a soft, faint snore. She had fallen asleep in his arms, utterly and completely exhausted.
He looked down at her sleeping face, at the smudges of dirt on her cheek and the tangled mess of her golden hair. A new, strange, and profoundly protective feeling washed over him. He gently sat down on the grass, cradling her in his arms, careful not to wake her. He extended his right hand, intending to brush a stray lock of hair from her face, but his hand paused in mid-air. This was a new and unfamiliar territory. After a moment of hesitation, he completed the gesture, his calloused fingers gently tucking the strand behind her ear.
Half an hour later, Gwen's eyes fluttered open. For a disoriented moment, she thought she was in her own bed, a deep, restorative sleep still clinging to her. She stretched subconsciously, a small, contented sound escaping her lips.
Then, her eyes focused. She was looking up at Hawk's face. He was looking down at her, a small, quiet smile on his lips.
"Hello," he said softly.
"Holy sh*t!" With a startled gasp, she sprang up from his embrace, a visible wave of rosy color flooding her pale cheeks.
Hawk rose to his feet as well, his limbs cracking and popping as he stretched, the result of remaining perfectly still for thirty minutes.
Gwen, her mind now fully awake and processing the impossible memories—the inverted waterfall, the instantaneous drying—pushed the supernatural aside and focused on the real. She looked at him, at the unrestrained power radiating from him. He was the same, yet completely different. His familiar, sharp, sword-like eyebrows were the same, but before they had been like a blade sheathed. Now, the sword was drawn, sharpened, and gleaming in the sun. She felt a shiver of something that was not entirely fear.
Then, she remembered the lie he had told her before he disappeared. A beautiful, teasing smile graced her lips. "Library, huh? Going to read some books?"
He caught the hint of complaint under her teasing tone. He met her gaze, and for the first time, there was no evasion, no wall. "I'm sorry," he said.
The apology was different. She had heard him apologize before, but those were dismissive, transactional words meant to end a conversation. This one was quiet, direct, and held a weight of genuine regret. It acknowledged her worry, her effort, her impossible journey.
Her smile softened. She held out her hand. "Give me your phone. Why didn't you answer my calls?"
He walked to the small pile of his folded clothes and retrieved the dead device. "I've been here for over twenty days. The battery died a long time ago."
She took the phone. It was, as he said, completely unresponsive. She blinked, a thought occurring to her. She pulled out her own phone and clicked the tracking link from the last notification. The webpage loaded with an error message. Link invalid. Device has been offline for more than 72 hours. The trail had gone cold. He had been well and truly lost.
Just then, Hawk finally asked the question. "By the way, Gwen. How did you know I was here?"
Gwen subtly pocketed her own phone, her mind racing for a plausible explanation that wasn't I used a forgotten account login to illegally track your location across state lines. A bright, confident, and slightly too boastful smile appeared on her face. "My dad's a police captain, Hawk. If I want to, no matter where you go in this country, I can find you."
Hawk blinked, processing the sheer improbability of her claim. The NYPD had jurisdiction in New York City, not rural Maryland. Even with her father's influence, it was a logistical impossibility. He knew, with absolute certainty, that she was lying.
He looked at her, at the faint blush that returned to her cheeks as she made her bold declaration, and he thought for a moment. He could call her out. He could demand the truth.
But he didn't.
He let a look of dawning, impressed understanding cross his face and nodded slowly. He didn't need to know how she found him. The fact that she had, the fact that she had crossed the country and trekked through a wilderness for him… that was the only truth that mattered.
He chose to believe her lie. And in that unspoken agreement, something new and fragile, yet undeniably real, was forged between them.