Morning light filtered through the window, warm and golden, pulling Domino from the sweetest sleep she'd had in months. Her body felt loose and content in a way she'd almost forgotten was possible.

  The sheets smelled like soap and something uniquely Jay. For a moment, she let herself pretend this was normal, that waking up beside him was something she got to do every day instead of a miracle she'd stumbled into after months of self-imposed exile.

  When she turned over, she was surprised to see Jay still there, his light brown skin gleaming in the sunlight. His face was peaceful, younger somehow, with that innocent smile playing at his lips like he was having the best dream of his life.

  She'd forgotten how young he looked when he slept, how the constant weight of responsibility melted away. Twenty-five years old and carrying the world on his shoulders, but right now he looked like any other guy who'd gotten lucky on New Year's Eve.

  Her fingers itched to trace the line of his jaw, to confirm he was real and here.

  She stared at his sleeping face. "He turned twenty-five and I wasn't even there." The regret tasted bitter.

  Then it all hit her at once.

  The guilt crashed over her first. Four months. She'd abandoned him for four months after he'd nearly died trying to help his friends, and she'd convinced herself it was for his own good. What kind of person did that make her?

  The memories followed. That night when everything went to hell. Jay going under the enhancement procedure despite knowing the risks. The attacks from Abomination and Doom, one right after another. When she'd tried to throw herself between the cosmic ray blast and Jay, her damn powers had cracked the floor beneath her feet, making her fall three stories down. The irony wasn't lost on her. Her luck had saved her instead of him, exactly when she needed it to fail.

  She remembered clawing her way back up through the building, her hands bloody from gripping broken concrete and twisted metal. Every curse word she'd ever learned had poured out like a prayer, anything to distract from the terror eating her alive.

  But when she'd seen Jay bleeding from that wound in his stomach, that twisted piece of metal piercing right through him, she'd lost every shred of composure she'd ever possessed.

  She could still feel the slickness of his blood on her hands. Still smell the copper tang of it mixing with smoke and ozone.

  She'd begged him to wake up, shaken him, screamed at him. When nothing worked, she'd tried to control her powers the way Jay controlled his so flawlessly. For the first time in her life, she'd wanted her abilities to actually listen to her instead of doing their own chaotic thing. Jay made his powers look so easy, controlled like breathing. She'd concentrated until her skull felt like it might crack, begging her luck to work just once the way she needed it to. But nothing. Just that same chaotic, self-serving luck that only gave a damn about keeping her alive.

  Her powers had always been a wild card. The one time she'd needed surgical precision, they'd left her hanging.

  So she'd tried the next best thing. If her damn powers only worked to protect her from mortal danger, then she'd create that danger herself. The logic had been crystal clear in her panicked mind: hurt herself, trigger her abilities, maybe create enough chaos to somehow help him.

  She'd grabbed a sharp piece of metal debris, aimed it at her own throat. If stabbing herself could give even a sliver of a chance to help Jay, she'd do it gladly.

  But that damn Captain America had stopped her.

  She could still feel his grip on her wrist, gentle but immovable. The disappointment in his eyes had cut deeper than any blade could have. Here was America's golden boy looking at her like she was a broken thing that needed fixing, and the worst part was knowing he was right.

  She'd cried and begged Steve to let go, but he wouldn't. The words she'd screamed at him still made her cringe. Calling him every name she could think of, accusing him of letting Jay die, threatening to hurt him if he didn't release her. She knew cursing him was wrong since he was just protecting her from herself, but the alternative was accepting that she was completely powerless to save the person who mattered most.

  And Domino had never handled powerlessness well.

  After all her life, after all her losses, she'd learned to be alone, to be free from all connections and responsibilities. But just months with Jay had changed her in ways she couldn't even imagine.

  The man who'd throw himself between bullets and children without hesitation. Who'd created an entire secret identity just because he was too stubborn to admit he had a hero complex. Who'd risk experimental surgery to get stronger, to protect others and ensure a friend's happiness, even when that friend had told him it wasn't necessary.

  Honestly, after that, everything became a blur. The world turned into a mess of voices and accusations, of Doom's broadcast revealing secrets she'd helped Jay keep, of watching the people he'd sacrificed for turn on him like rabid dogs. She did remember calling Bobby with shaking hands, barely able to form words through her tears, knowing Jay would need someone who understood what real loyalty looked like.

  Later, when Jay was leaving after healing Ben and Hank, she'd seen something on the floor. A bloody quarter. She'd stared at it for a long time, this twenty-five-cent piece of metal that had done what she couldn't. Protect him when it mattered most.

  Then, at the back of the Baxter Building, when Jay had asked her what was wrong with those tired, hurt eyes, she'd panicked. The words had spilled out before she could stop them, driven by the terror still coursing through her veins from watching him nearly die.

  She'd seen what loving Jay meant. Watching him throw himself into danger, always putting himself in harm's way. She'd realized with crushing clarity that being with him meant living in constant fear of losing him, of watching him bleed out while her useless powers protected only herself.

  And Domino? She'd already lost everyone she'd ever loved. Her parents. Her team. Everyone she'd let get close had been ripped away violently, and she'd survived by building walls, by never caring enough to be destroyed again.

  But Jay had slipped past every defense she'd ever constructed.

  In that moment, with her emotions running higher than her common sense and the image of him dying still burned into her retinas, walking away had seemed like the only way to survive. Because if she stayed and something happened to him, when something happened to him, it would destroy her completely. She'd barely survived her family's deaths. Losing Jay would break something in her that could never be fixed.

  She'd convinced herself it was mercy for both of them. He wouldn't have to worry about her getting caught in the crossfire of his heroics, and she wouldn't have to live with the constant terror of watching the man she loved sacrifice himself for strangers. It was the coward's way out.

  The look on his face when she'd handed him that quarter and said goodbye still haunted her dreams. Like she'd shot him in the chest and walked away while he bled. Because that's exactly what she'd done, wasn't it?

  In a blur, she'd found herself in a bar with Wade and the rest of the crew, drowning her sorrows while watching TV news of Vice President Rodriguez announcing plans for District X to integrate the Morlocks with humans. Even hammered on cheap whiskey, she'd known it had Jay written all over it. She just couldn't understand how a man who'd been criticized and accused by the very mutants and X-Men who'd never done half as much for their own people could keep giving and giving. But she'd realized she'd lost her right to be angry on Jay's behalf when she'd walked away instead of standing beside him.

  To clear her head, she and the mercs had taken a job in Japan hunting some killer monkey, trying to get away from everything that reminded her of Jay.

  Spoiler alert: you can't outrun your own heart. Who knew?

  But running from Jay was like trying to outrun her own shadow. Every mission briefing where someone mentioned healing powers, every news report about mysterious good deeds across the country, every damn quarter she saw on the street brought him rushing back. Wade's constant commentary about "the good doctor" hadn't helped either, especially when she caught him looking at her with pity.

  Pity. From Wade Wilson. That's how she knew she'd hit rock bottom.

  After a month on assignment, she'd tried to let go and move on. They'd even gotten a new member, Hit-Monkey, who was better with guns than Masacre and Gorilla Man combined. The little furry assassin had fit in perfectly with their band of misfits, and his presence had been a welcome distraction from the Jay-shaped hole in her chest.

  But then she'd seen him in Akihabara, carrying crazy amounts of manga and DVDs, laughing with such pure joy that it made her heart ache.

  She'd been on a supply run when she'd spotted him across the crowded street. At first, she thought she was hallucinating. That the lack of sleep and excess of sake had finally caught up with her.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  But no. It was him. Jay. In the flesh. In Tokyo. Carrying enough manga to stock a small library.

  That smile. God, that smile. It was the same one from their movie nights, when he'd get so excited explaining plot holes or pointing out Easter eggs that he'd forget to be serious. For a split second, seeing him there surrounded by all that colorful Japanese pop culture, she'd thought maybe he was okay. Maybe he'd moved on and found happiness without her.

  Maybe leaving him had been the right choice after all.

  But when she'd gotten closer, she'd seen the truth hidden beneath that smile. The way it didn't quite reach his eyes. The slight slump to his shoulders when he thought no one was looking. The forced quality to his enthusiasm, like he was trying to convince himself as much as anyone else that he was having fun.

  That smile was trying so hard to suppress sorrow rather than express joy. She'd reached out her hand to approach him, then pulled it back and walked away as fast as she could, tears forming in her eyes.

  Because what right did she have to comfort him? She'd been the one to leave him bleeding emotionally in that alley. She'd made her choice, and now she had to live with watching him try to piece himself back together from a distance.

  Back in the present, she traced lazy circles on Jay's chest, watching the morning light paint gold across his skin. Trying to calm herself down.

  Her team had left Japan for Europe on a big assignment to hunt down Taskmaster. Within days of arriving, news had leaked through their private channels that Jay had destroyed some infamous gang in Korea. Brutally even. He had killed a man. The report had been clinical, matter-of-fact, but she'd read between the lines. Jay didn't kill people. Jay saved people. If he'd crossed that line, something inside him had broken.

  Killing and mercenary work? That was bread and butter to her, came as naturally as breathing after years of survival on the streets. But knowing Jay had been forced to cross that line made her stomach twist with guilt. She couldn't process what Jay must be going through. A healer forced to become a killer. It had solidified her thinking that she wasn't meant to be with him. Their worlds were too different, their methods too incompatible.

  Or so she'd told herself. Funny how easy it was to rationalize cowardice when you were good at lying to yourself.

  After months on assignment, they'd failed spectacularly against Taskmaster. The bastard had taken them apart like a chess master playing against children, exploiting every weakness and predicting every move. Everyone except Wade, who the man seemed genuinely frightened of for reasons none of them understood. But Taskmaster had kidnapped their newest recruit, Steven Harmon, a nineteen-year-old kid acting as their logistics advisor.

  Steven was just a backpacking American college student funding his European tour with odd jobs, but he'd quickly become the team's little brother. The kid had a gift for lightening the mood with perfectly timed jokes and an infectious optimism. In a team full of damaged souls carrying years of trauma, Steven had been their ray of sunshine.

  They'd tracked Taskmaster to a newly opened lab in Brussels that manufactured costumes from unstable molecules for the EU's official heroes. The place had been partially funded by Reed Richards, since the man had literally invented unstable molecules with inspiration from Jay's first email to Reed, something Reed had mentioned during one of their weekly dinners back when things were good and simple.

  The fight had been brutal and desperate. Taskmaster had used Steven as a human shield, forcing them to hold back while he systematically dismantled their tactics. Just when they'd finally managed to corner him and land some solid hits, the bastard had activated a dead man's switch, blasting the unstable molecule containment unit before retreating through a prepared escape route.

  Steven had been caught directly in the energy discharge, his screams echoing through the lab as the experimental particles rewrote his molecular structure in real time. When the light faded, their sweet, normal kid had been transformed into something that looked like a cartoon character had stepped out of a TV screen and into reality.

  The head scientist had explained that Steven's body was now composed of unstable molecules in a state of constant flux, making him essentially indestructible but fundamentally altered. He'd taken the name Slapstick, and his personality had shifted too, becoming more manic and similar to Wade's.

  She'd brought the team back to America to meet Reed, but the universe had other plans. Just as they'd landed at JFK, Sue had called personally. Her voice had been warm and genuine, asking Domino to come to their New Year's party. When Domino had been reluctant, Sue had mentioned casually that Jay was going to be there.

  The words had hit her like someone had reached into her chest and squeezed. Three months of telling herself she was over him, that walking away had been the right choice, and suddenly she was pacing in the middle of the airport terminal. Seeing Slapstick's condition and genuinely needing Reed's help had given her the perfect excuse to say yes.

  She'd spent two days nervously shopping for the perfect dress, ultimately settling on a black and white number that matched her heterochromatic eyes. The ones Jay had always said were beautiful instead of freakish. She'd tried on dozens of outfits, rejecting anything that seemed like she was trying too hard while simultaneously wanting to look absolutely stunning when she saw him again.

  Just as they were celebrating Christmas in some nameless bar in Queens, nursing drinks and pretending to be festive, the TV had switched to a breaking news bulletin. The Latverian broadcast had been hijacked and showed that bastard Doom had begun his ritual, actually attempting to sacrifice his childhood love to literal demons. She'd thought it had to be some kind of sick fan film. There was no way magic was real, no way someone could actually try to murder their love on live TV.

  But then she'd seen Jay's face on screen. The pure venom and barely contained fury in his voice as Doom confessed to orchestrating everything. The pain and betrayal in his eyes when the truth came out. She'd known then that every impossible thing was real, and her blood had turned to ice.

  Then they'd all watched as the world witnessed Jay transform into something otherworldly, his hair turning white as fresh snow, power radiating from him like the wrath of heaven itself as he sent out that brilliant beam of pure life energy. The broadcast had cut out abruptly, leaving them staring at static and wondering if the man she loved was dead or alive.

  Domino had called every contact she had. The information that came back had been almost unbelievable. Videos of people all over the country getting healed, freed from diseases and ailments that should have been incurable. Children walking for the first time, cancer patients suddenly clean, the blind seeing again. She'd known without a doubt it had been Jay, reaching across the entire nation to heal strangers.

  It had made the whole team nervous about meeting him, seeing the scope of what he was capable of when pushed to his limits.

  She shifted slightly, careful not to wake him, breathing in the scent of him. Memorizing it. This moment. This peace.

  At the party, after their awkward conversation with the Castle kids in their arms, and Maria Castle making that innocent comment about how they looked perfect together with children, she'd gotten so flustered she could barely speak. The domestic scene had hit her in the feels. The way Jay had looked so natural holding little Lisa, the easy way he'd interacted with Frank Jr., the soft expression on his face when he'd looked at her holding the other child. For just a moment, she'd allowed herself to picture a future where scenes like that were normal instead of painful reminders of what she'd thrown away.

  But then she'd seen Jay blushing too, caught off guard by the same implications, and despite everything, a genuine smile had broken across her face.

  When she'd noticed Jay's necklace still carrying the lucky quarter she'd given him that night in the alley, a crack had appeared in the carefully constructed wall around her heart. He'd kept it. After everything, the abandonment, the months of silence, the way she'd walked away when he needed support most, he'd kept her quarter close to his heart like some kind of talisman.

  That stupid, blood-stained quarter. Her parting gift when she'd been too much of a coward to stay. And he'd kept it. Wore it. Treasured it.

  What did that say about him? What did it say about them?

  After that emotional moment, those troublemakers on her team had started causing chaos everywhere, and she'd reluctantly had to leave Jay's side to rein them in. Hit-Monkey was getting aggressively drunk on sake, Masacre was preaching to increasingly irritated X-Men, and the others were busy making Reed's party look like a disaster zone. She'd systematically shut down each incident with the efficiency of a mother dealing with unruly children.

  She'd genuinely smiled hearing Reed's announcements. Sue being pregnant, Ben and Alicia finally getting engaged. Before the whole mess with Jay's secrets coming out, she'd grown close to both Sue and Alicia during their weekly "ladies' lunches" from their usual group.

  But then she'd heard Ben's speech. The raw emotion in his voice as he'd talked about Jay's sacrifices, the way he'd defended Jay's lies by calling them acts of love instead of manipulation. Reed and Alicia had joined in, painting Jay not as the calculating manipulator Doom had tried to make him seem, but as someone who'd cared so much he'd been willing to risk everything for his friends' happiness.

  The weight that had lifted from her chest when she realized Jay was finally free from public condemnation had been overwhelming. She hadn't even known she'd been carrying that guilt. Seeing him finally redeemed had made her happier than any of her own achievements ever could.

  When she'd gone to find him after the speeches, Johnny had whisked him away for some private conversation. Then after nearly half an hour, when Jay had finally returned looking emotionally wrung out, Scott had claimed him for another heart-to-heart. She'd found herself actually cursing under her breath, wondering if there was some kind of Yaoi Plot she'd missed.

  As she'd watched the countdown to New Year begin, anxiety had overtaken her. She hadn't known why, but her instinct told her that she needed to find him before midnight. Something about new beginnings and second chances and not wanting to start another year with regrets between them.

  Her search had been frantic, pushing through crowds of partygoers and scanning every face for the one that mattered. When she'd finally spotted Jay doing the same thing, looking around with that same desperate urgency, clearly searching for her too, her heart had nearly stopped. The relief in his eyes when their gazes met had been like a physical blow.

  Just before the countdown could finish, she'd felt them both moving closer but still restraining themselves, both too scared of rejection to make the first move after months of separation and hurt feelings.

  But at the last moment, she'd looked into those warm brown eyes that had haunted her dreams and just said "Screw it."

  The kiss had been desperate, hungry, full of months of regret and longing and the terrifying relief of coming home. It had tasted like champagne and forgiveness and all the words they'd been too proud or scared to say. When the fireworks had exploded overhead, she'd felt like they were celebrating inside her chest too.

  Then everything had become a blur of sensation and emotion. Jay teleporting them away in a flash of blue light, their desperate need to memorize every inch of each other after months apart, the overwhelming relief of knowing that despite everything, they still fit together perfectly.

  Now here she was, watching Jay's unconscious face and feeling like she could finally breathe again. She'd expected awkwardness, maybe some lingering resentment, but instead there was just this overwhelming sense of rightness. Like the universe had finally clicked back into proper alignment.

  Seeing the time was still early, she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, then settled back against his chest, trying to memorize the sound of his heartbeat.

  "You better not make me regret this," she whispered against his skin, her voice rough with emotion and sleep. "Because if you die on me after I finally got the guts to stay, I'll find a way to bring you back just so I can kill you myself."

  It was the most romantic thing she could manage. The most honest thing too.

  Even for someone who'd spent her whole life running from everything that mattered, she'd finally found her anchor. And this time, she wasn't letting go.

  "Guess I'm done running."