Ryan's muscles burned with every step, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he leaped from rooftop to rooftop, Cal's unconscious weight slung over his shoulder like a heavy, unwelcome reminder of the day's failures. The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting the city in hues of orange and purple. Shadows stretched long and thin, cloaking the alleys and streets below in darkness.
Each landing jarred his legs, the impact sending shockwaves through his body, but he kept going. He couldn't stop, not yet. He felt like he was running from something, but he couldn't quite figure out what. His own thoughts, maybe. The memory of that fight against the water manipulator, the sensation of being so helpless, drowning in a torrent of rage and icy cold water. He had almost died, and it wasn't Cal who had saved him. It had been sheer luck.
He gritted his teeth, pushing down the surge of bitterness that rose in his throat. He wished, for just a moment, that he had killed the bastard. That he'd put an end to one more threat, one more monster. But no, that wasn't justice. That was something else. Something darker. Something hungry and hateful, whispering in the back of his mind, promising that it would feel so good to just let go and cross that line.
But he couldn't. Because then he wouldn't be any better than them. He glanced down at Cal, whose face was slack, almost peaceful despite the circumstances. He wondered how Cal would look at him if he had killed the guy. Probably with that disappointed, pained look that cut deeper than any knife. Like he'd lost something precious. And Amber… God, how would she see him?
He shook his head, the thought almost unbearable. He couldn't stand the idea of them looking at him like that, like he was some kind of monster.
His foot slipped on a loose tile, and he stumbled, losing his balance. For a moment he panicked as he fell forward before he used his own forehead to catch him self on the concrete rooftop, cracking it. He tightened his grip on Cal, his heart pounding. He couldn't afford to mess up now. Not with Cal depending on him. Not with everything that had happened tonight.
Ahead, he saw the familiar outline of Cal's apartment building. Relief surged through him, but it was tempered by the ache in his chest that had nothing to do with physical exertion. He slowed as he reached the fire escape, climbing down carefully, wincing as his tired arms strained under the weight.
When he reached the window, he paused, his breath catching in his throat. The blinds were open, and through the glass, he saw Amber pacing inside, her movements tense and restless. She was tidying up Cal's apartment, picking up things and then putting them down again, like she wasn't sure what to do with herself.
She'd changed out of the bloodied clothes she'd fought in, now wearing a simple tank top and loose sweatpants. The soft, dim light of the apartment highlighted the way her hair, now pulled up in a messy bun, framed her face. Her eyes, usually so bright and full of fire, were shadowed with worry. Even from this distance, he could see the vivid green of her irises. Maybe it was because of his powers. Maybe his vision had sharpened along with everything else.
His gaze lingered on her, a pang of something sharp and bittersweet tightening in his chest. She was beautiful. Not in the obvious, flashy way you'd see on a magazine cover, but in a way that was quiet and genuine. The kind of beauty that made you want to look closer, to see all the little details that made her who she was.
He thought about the way she smiled when she was around Cal, the way her face lit up when they talked, shared jokes, or planned their next move. He remembered the moments they spent together, just the two of them, but it wasn't the same. There was always a part of her that seemed to belong to Cal, and he couldn't help but feel like an outsider, looking in on something he could never really be a part of.
His heart sank, a mix of sadness and guilty jealousy twisting inside him. He shouldn't be thinking like this, not now, not ever. They were a team, and there was no room for this kind of thinking. But he couldn't help it. Couldn't help the way his mind drifted to what-ifs and could-have-beens.
He watched her for a moment longer, just standing there in the fading light, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on him. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, to say something, anything that would take away that worried look on her face. But he knew he couldn't. Not without making things more complicated than they already were.
With a heavy sigh, he turned away from the window, adjusting Cal's weight on his shoulder. He needed to get him inside, needed to get him to safety. But for just a few seconds, he let himself imagine a world where things were different. Where he didn't feel like he was always one step behind.
It was time to focus on what was real. On what he could do. And right now, that meant getting his friend inside and making sure he was okay.
He took a deep breath and waited for Amber to open the window, ready to face whatever came next.