Decay

NOVEMBER 21 THROUGH 29, 1963

 

Da Vinci asked Diana to pull the Corvair over in front of a small and shady pub on the west side of DC. Tim had just recently blown up and stormed out of the car, allowing Diana and Da Vinci some much-needed time alone.

“So, tonight’s mission was a big success.” Da Vinci had a boyish way about him when he was with her. “I’d say that’s reason enough to celebrate. Why not come get drinks with me? The pub here plays music till three. We could dance to some Jerry Lee Lewis. I know you think he’s just the berries.”

“Just the berries? I’m old, but not that old,” she teased.

“Are you saying I am?” Da Vinci acted dramatic, playfully offended. “I rescind my invite if you’re just going to sit there and insult me to my face.”

“Would you rather I do it behind your back like Dresden?”

“Oh, too close to home, Hera. I like to pretend Dresden and I are actually really good friends.”

“Yeah, me, too.” Diana raised a thin eyebrow and parted her full lips into an earnest smile.

“I can’t believe he’s still on you about the security breach.” Da Vinci exhaled.

“He has a right to.” She shrugged. “You two really saved me. Lord knows where I’d be if the CIA canned me.”

Da Vinci rolled his head to his left, staring Diana down. “You’d be working for the KGB in under twenty-four hours of termination, and I refuse to accept anything less.”

“Hmmmm…” Diana hummed lowly and then let out a rich, decadent laugh. “You’re probably right.”

“But in all seriousness.” Da Vinci’s smile had a coy nature to it. “Do you want to come and dance for a while? I’ll pay for your meter.”

Diana’s gaze drifted to the far right. Her expression showed that the gears were spinning and grinding in her mind. Da Vinci was captivated. Her bright golden pin curls lit up when other cars passed by, their headlights hitting her hair just right.

She gently traced the curve of the steering wheel, until she found and turned the key in the ignition, killing the engine. “I have enough time tonight. We’ve fallen behind on our paperwork.”

“But you turned the car off,” he teased, a big schmucky smile taking over his face. “Which means you want to.”

“Alas, needing and wanting are two different things all together,” she replied aloofly. She drummed her manicured nails along the dashboard. “You should get going before it gets too dark out.”

“God forbid I get jumped. A geezer like me? All the CIA training in the world couldn’t help me take down a common criminal.”

Da Vinci was stalling for time and Diana was catching on. Every time she dropped him off, he invited her to go dancing or join him for drinks. Some nights, he’d be a lot more forward and ask if she’d stay the night. She only accepted sometimes, but he knew that she would always consider.

“You crack me up,” she cooed, sliding along the bench seat closer to Da Vinci.

“I can tell by how much you laugh at my jokes,” he jabbed.

Diana smirked.

“What do you want?” Da Vinci teased. “I can tell you’re about to ask for something.”

“So quick to assume,” she replied.

“But I’m right.” Da Vinci looked out of the front window, pretending Diana wasn’t practically on his lap.

“You are.” She leaned her head back against the cool driver’s side window, face to face with Da Vinci. “I want the file on Marina and Brahe’s recent missile obtainment.”

“Oh, my god, why that one?” Da Vinci groaned. “I miss when you asked for the stuff that was easy to get.”

Diana and Da Vinci both laughed, and Diana intertwined her hand with his, while playing with his soft, dark hair with her other.

“I promise this is the last time I’ll ask for a couple months. I just have a hunch about something, and I think this can help me confirm some suspicious activity on Brahe’s part.”

“You think he’s defecting?” Da Vinci asked with an edge of excitement in his voice.

“I may have a hunch.” She rolled her eyes and laughed again. “We’ll just have to wait and find out.”

“Now, I have to get the files. I’ve been dying for some in-house drama. Adams has been holding out on me.” He mimicked her body language, tilting his head off to the right. “But I’d be lying if I said you didn’t scare me sometimes, collecting all these files and secrets.”

“Niccolò, you can’t be serious.” Her eyes grew wide and her face twisted, displeased. “You think I’m going to try to defect?”

“Not defect, but maybe start freelancing. You’ve certainly got the skill for it. Not like you’ve got an ace of a team that you’d regret leaving,” he replied.

“Niccolò.” She had a sultry way of saying his name. She traced from the back of his head to the jaw of his stubbly narrow face with her hand. “You’re right. I do have the skills for freelancing, but no cause.” She shrugged. “We’ve got things easy here. I’m just antsy to get back out into the real world. Things are nice now, but it’s too many missions, not enough coups, invasions, large-scale rescues. It’s fine, but it’s nothing compared to what we’re built for.”

Da Vinci kept his mouth shut, knowing there was more on her mind.

“If I can reveal Brahe, I’m hoping we’ll end up back on those kinds of missions faster.”

“Do you really miss those missions, though, or are you just trying to get back at Dresden?” Da Vinci’s voice didn’t falter.

“Oh, please.” She giggled. “Dresden isn’t worth my time or yours, for that matter.”

“So that’s it, just trying to get back into good graces? A narrative I can support.” Da Vinci rested his head against the passenger-side window, his gaze falling into hers. “Won’t you come dance?”

“Not tonight, but tomorrow? You know I’m good for my word.” Her smile revealed two rows of perfect teeth. “We can grab dinner down at the Hometown.”

“Promise me a burger from there and I’d say yes to just about anything.” He grabbed her hand and kissed the top of it. “Until then?”

She threw her arms around him and pressed her lips to his, smiling when they eventually pulled apart. “Until then.” She slid back to her side of the seat and waited until Da Vinci had vanished into the bar before pulling back out into the nighttime traffic.

*

“What if I stayed?”

“Stayed?”

“The night we went missing. You asked me to come into that pub on the west side of town. What if I stayed? Do you think we could’ve taken them?” Diana rested her head on Da Vinci’s chest, the two of them lying out beneath the stars.

“We would have been drunk off our asses. If anything, we would have been easier targets.” He shrugged. “There are some things that can’t be changed.”

“Who took you? The night they came for you, was it Nikola?” Diana drew circles on his hand with her finger.

“No, no.” He shook his head. “It was the big brute and his negotiator. They were set on convincing me without physical force, but I was noncompliant. So, they shot me.”

“I took them both down,” she said. “Kal and Gulliver. I beat them no problem, but Nikola got me on my way out to the car. I’m guessing they had her positioned behind another vehicle. I didn’t realize it was her until we saw them out here with Rigan.”

“There’s no use dwelling on what we cannot change.” Da Vinci dropped his voice and shifted himself uncomfortably. He cleared his throat. “It’s something that can’t be and will never be undone. It’s our job to just keep pressing on.”

Diana was silent. Her eyes glassed over. “I haven’t felt real pain in so long.” She pulled her hand from his and held it out in front of their faces. “These were down to nothing on the day we fought them. I pounded Kal’s face into nothing and all that was left was soft membrane, but it never really hurt that much, and after a bit, it healed right up.” Diana looked to him but saw that he had no intention of responding. He seemed to still be listening. “If they capture me, or Tim, for that matter, they’ll be able to torture us indefinitely. We could be alive for decades just locked away.”

“You talking like that terrifies me.” Da Vinci focused on the stars. “You will feel pain again, Diana. You can die.” He paused for a moment, biting his lip before speaking. “You’ve always been able to, and nothing about the steroid changed that.”

“It’s just such a high pain threshold, Da Vinci.”

“Sure, you’re stronger, but you’re not invincible. They’ll come up with something to kill us. I’m certain of it, and when they come, we have to pray we’ll be stronger than they are.” He propped himself up on his elbows, using slow and careful movements. “There, you have your answer. Now, don’t do anything reckless.”

“What?” She pulled away from him. “What’s that mean?” She leaned closer in. “What do you know?”

“I’m not giving you any ideas.” Da Vinci shook his head. “I told Rigan what to look out for when we sent him to ring Adams, and he ended up worse off than before. I can’t risk that with you, too, Diana. Just trust me and let it be.” He took her chin in his hand and kissed her forehead.

“So no chance of me finding out what’s going on in that big brain of yours?” The slight smirk on Diana’s face and her increased leaning in was enough to make Da Vinci swoon. She knew it. The other day, he’d told her that she was beautiful before the steroid, but now she was “ethereal,” something that never was and never will be again. She might have been taking advantage of that fact. There was a sudden genialness to the two of them that hadn’t been there for a long time, but this moment of timeless bliss was cut short by the sound of rustling rhododendron.

Diana turned to the brush around them, pink flowers bobbed before them. She put her finger to her lips and stood, signaling for Da Vinci do the same. From then on, it was just waiting. They listened as the footsteps got closer. There was something urgent to them. Whoever was coming was plowing through the woods. Diana and Da Vinci were in position to strike when Ruby burst through the bushes and into their clearing.

“Surprise! Look who brought good news,” she sang, an envelope in hand.

Diana relaxed, still frustrated that earlier that week Rigan and Tim just decided it was time for her to know and brought her to camp without clearing it with the rest of them. Luckily, she’d grown very fond of Ruby and allowed it.

“Is that from Adams?” Diana swung from lethal to friendly in under a second. She stepped close to Ruby and picked the envelope from her hand. It was. “Good,” she said as though the wind had been taken right out of her. “Thank god.” She felt cautiously optimistic.

“Let’s go get the others. We’ll open it together.” He pressed past Ruby and Diana.

“Get the others?” Ruby scoffed, turning to Diana. “You’re going to open it now, right?”

Diana smirked. “You and I think alike, sweetheart.” She slipped her thumb under the envelope’s flap and opened the letter. She only peeked, but the look of delight on her face must’ve given her away.

“Good news.” Ruby let out a long breath. “That’s a relief. I would’ve peeked myself, but I couldn’t even understand the first one.”

Diana tucked the letter away and chuckled. “It’s a cipher. I’ll teach you how to break it later tonight.”

Ruby squealed and followed behind. The next twenty-four hours were the happiest Ruby and they had. Adams was coming.

When Ruby showed up the next day crying, everyone assumed it was because whatever special connection she’d had with them was coming to an end. They’d return to the CIA, undergo treatment, the world’s finest scientists would work on them, and then they’d be real again, but no. Not even Da Vinci seemed ready for what she told them.

“Ruby, what’s wrong?” Rigan took her in his arms, and although the top of her shirt was already getting damp from his skin, she stayed there, heaving.

“K-Kennedy,” Ruby struggled to be heard in between the long, heavy sobs.

“What’s going on?” Da Vinci rushed over to Rigan and Ruby. Diana followed close behind him, more curious than concerned.

“Kennedy’s been shot! Killed!” Ruby gasped for air. “He’s gone.” Her words teeter-tottered between sobbing and screaming. Ruby was still weeping, hugging Rigan as though her life depended on it. “There—there weren’t even commercials on TV. It’s just been nonstop. I-I ca-a-a-ame here to-to get away from it. I’m so-o-orry.” She pushed her face into Rigan’s shoulder.

Diana felt void of anything but dread. She turned away from the group and walked toward the woods. “Kennedy’s dead?”

“Diana.” Da Vinci followed her but knew better than to touch her. She was moving farther away from the group. “Diana, wait.”

She stopped on the brink of the woods. She was drifting, spinning worst-case scenarios until she was partially paralyzed. She wiped away what little tears she had left.

“I know how important he was to you and the others,” Da Vinci seemed to be pulling whatever trite cliché came to him. “But you have to think of i—”

“That’s not what this is about.” She shook her head, a cry condemned to her throat. Her words came out calm and articulate. “We’re never getting out of here. Go tell Tim. He’ll say the same thing.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Adams won’t come. He’ll be tied up with the investigation. Brahe, Reginald, Minerva, Nike, none of them, Da Vinci.” She was shaking. “None of them will come.”

“This is just a setback. This investigation may not take as long as you think it will.”

“Do you know that?” She spun around, holding back tears. “Do you know that, Da Vinci? Did you know about this? Because if you did, then fucking tell me!”

“You think if I knew this was going to happen, I’d have been celebrating yesterday?” he growled back, his face instantly reddening with embarrassment.

“Da Vinci Moretti, the man who sees all and says nothing.” She paused before her stare flicked over to Tim. He was already walking toward them.

“Seems like we’ve got some planning to do,” Tim said evenly.

“You’re right. Come on.” Diana turned to address Da Vinci. “Take care of them. We’ll be back.”

 

OUT IN THE woods, Diana and Tim pressed on, waiting until they were completely out of earshot before beginning.

“So we are screwed.” Tim still looked behind them, as though worried they’d been followed. “Like this is Bay of Pigs levels of fucked, Diana.”

“Believe me, I know.” She sighed, sitting on a fallen tree trunk. “What the hell are we going to do?”

“Start planning our plea bargain with the KGB.” Tim shrugged and sat next to her. “Do not even bother trying to tell me you are not thinking the same thing.”

Diana took a long, sharp inhale and then let out an equally tense exhale. “There won’t be a plea bargain, Tim.”

“Please, you are the Goddess. Not a goddess, the goddess. The KGB wants you. And that’s all I’m giving you, because complimenting you feels like drinking gasoline.”

“Not after what we did to their agents.” Diana ran her hands through her matted hair.

“So we are as good as dead?” Tim then added, “Or as close to dead as we can get?”

“We’re as good as relentlessly tortured for decades on end.”

“You don’t think we age, either?” Tim asked, curious. “I was just thinking we were unbreakable, not immortal.” Tim seemed to be waiting for a response, but she didn’t even acknowledge that he’d spoken.

He twisted his mouth into just a shadow of a crooked smile. “Perhaps you’re right.” He shook his head. “There is no death in our futures.”

“Just this—waiting.”

“If we keep ourselves moving, we might be able to buy enough time for the CIA to get back in order.”

“Da Vinci’ll freeze to death by the time the CIA gets itself back in order,” she scoffed. “Besides, with Kennedy dead, there’ll be some kinda coup.”

“There had better not be,” Tim grumbled. “The last one was a mess.”

“Won’t be ours to clean up.” Diana laughed at her own joke, ignoring Tim’s molten anger.

“We can’t live like this.”

“We’re not living.” Diana laughed again, this time just a bit more off-kilter. “Not dyin’, either.”

Tim grimaced. “You are beside yourself. Come get me when you are actually willing to talk about a plan.”

Tim stormed off, but she stopped him right as he seemed to be leaving earshot. “Tim? Not a word to Da Vinci.”

“Wouldn’t want him to know you are coming undone at the seams.” Tim’s words were jarring. “I doubt you truly care.”

She waited until Tim was gone to pull out a small, red pocket knife she’d taken from Ruby a few days earlier. One of the fortunate parts of having a non-agent pack mule was that getting close to her, getting what she needed from her, was easy.

There was safety in death. Diana had known this since she was a child. Carefully, she took the blade to her arm and began to carve away, little pieces at first, and then large chunks as her flesh grew back. The littleness of what she knew, compared with the unreliability what she guessed, ate her alive. Diana depended on logic and certainty. Without these two things, she was at the mercy of imagination. There in the woods, she crafted a tempting solution. This was nothing shocking. It was something premeditated. Something she’d been thinking about for weeks now. How far could she push herself? How far could the KGB push her if they ever got the opportunity? More importantly, how far could Nikola?

It was a sermon of slicing and not feeling for a few minutes. She was dissatisfied with her lack of response. She raised her arm mechanically and drove the blade deep into her skin. Now that she felt, small tinges of pain hit as muscles snapped apart like broken rubber bands. It was barely anything, but it was a beginning. She quickly yanked the blade out and healed from the inside out. The act mesmerized Diana. She did it again and again. Stabbing the knife into her legs, arms, and stomach. Her stab wounds healed again and again. What started as a hypnotizing fascination quickly became a harsh reality.

“Shit,” she whispered, taking the blade, driving it in, and slicing upward. The wound healing as the blade moved along.

“No. No. No.” Her muted desperation led to her frantically flailing away at her arm. She cut and cut, chunks of shell and membrane falling to the forest floor. She waited for the arm to finally fall off, but the blue membrane remained and her arm grew back over.

There was a hushed terror overcoming her as her arm failed to fall. She could feel the pain now. The KGB could inflict pain if they wanted, but they couldn’t kill her. These were her worst fears confirmed. She kept her breathing steady, but inside, her heart trembled. In no world did she ever imagine death as a luxury, but here it was. Without a second thought, she raised the blade and drove it into her chest. A sharp gasp escaped her lips, but the situation lacked gratification. For a few seconds, there was pain, but then her heart healed and pushed the knife out of her chest and onto the ground without assistance.

She could feel another cry welling up in her throat, but she resisted. Instead, she took the blade and drove it into her chest a second time, a weak whimper escaping her lips as it penetrated her skin.

“Fuck.” She sat there for a moment, pulling on her hair. She felt as though sitting there and rotting away to nothingness might be the only solution, but instead, she picked herself up, scooted the fallen pieces of shell and membrane away, and started back toward camp. Da Vinci was quick to meet her when she returned.

“Hey, is everything all right? Tim said you had a crack-up.”

Diana raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Tim would say any woman was in hysterics if it’d benefit him,” she scoffed. Light, believable laughter left her lips. “I’m fine. I’m just trying to figure out what to do.” She shrugged. “We’ve got to escape one way or another.”

 

THE NEXT DAY, Diana asked Ruby for a lighter. After that, the days blended together. Diana ran on autopilot. A few harsh remarks here, a laugh or two there, harmless flirting with Da Vinci, a conversation about supplies with Ruby. It’d been at least a week since the blade episode. Despite going into the woods with the intention to test the flame against her flesh, she had not yet done it. As much as she hated to admit it, she was nervous. What next if the flames didn’t touch her? The longer she waited, the more nervous she got.

The group functioned fine without her being there in full mental capacity. Tim, Ruby, and Rigan were convinced they were going to navigate their way around the KGB to escape. Diana had more than a few reasons the plan wouldn’t work, but she kept her mouth shut, because she knew that, in his now-exterior heart, Tim also understood the plan wouldn’t work, but the illusion of hope stayed.

Eventually, Diana made a move. That night, she took a large step in ensuring her own mortality. She waited for Da Vinci, Rigan, and Tim to fall asleep. It was her turn to stand guard, but she left them. It was the perfect opportunity to slip away unnoticed. Since her lash out on the 23rd, Da Vinci had been keeping a close eye on her, closer than usual. She vanished into shrouded, green woodlands, surrounded by unglamorous vines and dying trees. Soon enough, there’d be snow. Some days, Diana could feel herself going away with the trees and woodland life. It was all getting cold. She chose the bank of a mostly stagnant pond, not too far from their current site for her experiment, convinced that when she started to blister—and she was certain she would—she’d be able to dip her hand into the water, preventing the flames from engulfing her whole self and the dainty floral dress Ruby had given her.

She pulled out the small, silver lighter, handling it like a relic of the old world. She flipped it open with one of her nails and immediately protected the flame, careful not to let the wind get to it. Not powered by the want-to, but the need-to, Diana dipped her fingers into the flame. And she felt nothing. Nothing but the residual panic when her heart drove the dagger out of her chest. Thinking on her feet, she switched the flame from her fingers to a location where her skin was softer, along her previously carved-up arm, but no blistering came. She did not feel the warmth from the fire. The flames treated her skin like Teflon. For a long while, she just stared in shock, but after a moment, an uncontrollable sense of anger overtook her. She balled the lighter up in her fist and threw it yards away. Then, she ran her hands through her matted hair and pulled at it, desperate to feel something. Her scalp began to flake and pieces of shell with hair fell at her feet. She made the choice not to cry. She kept herself under control. The next thing to happen wasn’t planned. It wasn’t thought through, but she felt as though it had to happen.

Carefully, she made her way over to the decaying side of the stagnant pond. At first, she just dipped her toes in, and then she took a deep breath and dove. The temperature of the water was unreadable due to her thick shell-like skin, so there was no immediate shock when she submerged herself in the pond. It was another world down there, filled with algae, mud, grime. Where there was no control in the woods, there was some down there. The world was so peaceful at the bottom of that pond. Everything just gently swayed. There was no chaos. Diana let go of her breath and allowed the water fill her lungs. She’d been waterboarded before. The nearness to death was overly familiar, but when the sensation of drowning took over, Diana didn’t thrash or fight to reach the surface. She kept floating down.

She woke up to the water parting and Rigan diving down to get her. He moved like an animal under the water, his webbed limbs helping him reach the bottom of the deep, dark pond. When his arms looped around her, she didn’t fight. Once they were back on land, Rigan only needed to compress her sternum once. She vomited up enough water to kill and then some.

“How long was I und—”

“One night. I stop watching after you for one night and that’s when you chose to try to kill yourself,” Rigan scolded. “All I wanted was one night of rest and you decide to try to kill yourself.”

“What?” Diana’s eyes were still adjusting. Light breaking across the horizon in the east. She’d gone under shortly after dusk. She hadn’t drowned at all. She’d fallen asleep. She wasn’t any closer to dying than she had been before.

“Da Vinci was afraid of this. He asked me to watch you, and the one night I take a break, you go and do exactly what he was afraid of,” Rigan huffed, then took her hand and pulled her up from the ground. She was groggy, but more than capable of walking. “Come on.”

They walked in quiet. The songs of the early-morning birds filled the void. Diana watched as hints of the sun took over the night sky and rolled in through the mountains.

Eventually, as they found themselves almost to camp, she said, “You won’t tell him, right?”

“Huh?” Rigan seemed to be coming out a trance.

“You can’t tell Da Vinci.” She sounded distant, but she meant what she said. “It will break him.”

Rigan looked her up and down for a moment as though inspecting her and her motives. “You really care if he knows?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I care about him.” She crossed her arms and stared at Rigan, more desperately than intimidatingly. “He is troubled enough. He doesn’t need my trouble, as well. What I did was my own doing, and if I choose to continue, it’s still my own doing.”

“You really want to die?” Rigan asked.

“No.” She shook her head. “I just want to know that I can.” She cleared her throat, residual water still lurking in her lungs. “If the KGB gets me. There’ll be no cure, no opportunities, it’ll just be torture. It’ll be torture and endless pain. I need my own cyanide pill. I need to know that’s not my future.”

“Yeah. I get that. I wish I didn’t, but I do.” He turned his back to her and started walking again. There was silence for only a second before he spoke again. “Diana, can you be honest with me?”

Her interest was piqued. “Depends. What do you want to know?”

“Do you think we’re going to get out of here?”

“The CIA won’t be coming. With the Kennedy assassination, they’ll be tied up for weeks, even months. An escape is unlikely.”

Rigan shuddered. Her words must’ve confirmed his fears. Tim had been leading him and Ruby on, but Rigan was trained to be skeptical. “Thanks for being honest with me.”

Da Vinci and Tim were already awake and in the clearing when Diana and Rigan reached camp. They’d been waiting for her. She had a speech planned out in her head, but upon seeing the fire embers, the fort, the backpacks of food, the people, she was overcome with tears. This was it. This was their future.

“Diana.” Rigan offered out his arm for her. “It’s okay.”

She shook her head and turned away, heading back into the woods, trying to get her thoughts back to the peacefulness she’d found at the bottom of the pond.

 

RIGAN CAME TO Da Vinci and Tim, seemingly confused. “What do we do?”

“I’ll go after her.” Da Vinci bowed his head. “I’m the one with the answers.” He sighed.

“Don’t bother, Da Vinci,” Tim said. “You know nothing is wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong?” Rigan’s eyes narrowed. He glared Tim down. “She tried to kill herself. She is overflowing with tears.”

“Diana is not depressed, Rigan,” Tim responded. “She is pissed. If you believe anything else, you are only fooling yourself.”

For a moment, Rigan was silent. Tim might have been right, but that didn’t stop Da Vinci.

Da Vinci plowed into the woods, knowing exactly where to find Diana. She was curled under a bare oak tree. There was just a bit of frost on the ground where she sat.

“Don’t expect an apology, Da Vinci. This was something I needed.”

“You’re wrong,” he replied, his voice shaking with the cold. “All you need to do is stop.”

“You are so naïve, Da Vinci.” Diana brought her legs in to her chest. “You don’t get it. I’m not sorry, because we are never getting out of this hellhole. Look at me, Da Vinci. I’m a freak.” The words lingered. In her life, she’d been called many things. Some derogatory, some not, but freak was never a word used to describe this goddess. “You turned out fine, Da Vinci. If the KGB weren’t waiting outside these mountains, you could walk on out of here. Go back to society. I can’t.” She paused, but then added, “I need to know that there’s still something human left inside of me.”

Da Vinci rummaged his hands through his hair, eventually covering his ears. “Don’t say that.” He frowned. “There is so much human left in you. More—” He stuttered for a moment. “More than there was just a few months ago.”

She laughed, clearly surprised by his honesty. But, before she could speak to him again, he began to cry.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Da Vinci was sobbing. Seeing her exactly as he’d seen her weeks before in one of his visions broke his heart. He’d even warned her. Don’t do it. I know you will. And yet she still did. “I’m so sorry, Diana. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m so sorry.”

“Da Vinci,” she said softly. “What’s wrong?” She took his hand and guided him down to the ground beside her.

“You know that future? The one I said I fixed.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think I changed it.” He swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words. “I think I caused it. I tried to stop you from this, this mad race to kill yourself, but no matter what I said, no matter who I sent, we still ended up here. Nothing I do, nothing I don’t do, changes what I see. It always comes to term one way or another.” He could feel the dirt and grime of days past sliding off his face with the tears. “I’ve seen you die hundreds of times, Diana. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” He tried to detach himself from the conversation, but the more he spoke, the more he broke. “Our future is imminent and unchangeable.” He felt the most agonizing pain, like a dagger being driven into his heart and twisted until his former self ceased to exist.

“I’m so sorry, Da Vinci.” This was the first time Da Vinci had seen Diana act timid. She reached out and caressed his face, wiping away a tear.

“Are you going to keep trying to kill yourself?” His voice was weak.

“No.” She shook her head, watching him closely.

They sat in the silence of the early morning for a while, but then she spoke again.

“How do I go?”

“I’ll tell you only what you already know. You die trying to save Ruby.”

“But how?”

His head shook. “I’m not going to risk causing that. I would never be able to live with myself.”

“So you outlive me,” she said flatly.

“Yeah.” The inside of Da Vinci’s mouth was dry. “I wish I didn’t.”

She scooted closer to him and curled into his side. He lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, then squeezed her tightly, and they stayed like that as the sun rose.