(A/N: For future reference, although I will be repeating this warning, Red and Elle's chapters are prone to higher concentrations of disturbing themes than the rest of the book, including some mentions of self-harm or suicidal ideation. The actions and thoughts of these characters are in no way supported by the author and it is advised that if you wish to end your life or harm yourself, you should seek professional help. Please take care of yourself.)

Three times, same results.

Same conversations, even, as if the river of time is flowing right around what I've said. These are the moments that are hardest to pull at, like lifting water from the ground. It runs between my fingers, time's vast ocean threatening to pull me down to death. I exhale, feeling my own breath vibrate in my throat, and slip it through itself, right through the current moment, so I can no longer tamper with the results. The anger and effort cause me to buckle on my legs.

My head spins slightly as it adjusts back to the present and my chest heaves as fire fills it. Satisfied, I look to Dylan, nod, and tell the waiting group, "That's entirely fair."

Mary's face lights up. The ghost of an expression flits over the others' faces, dangerous and familiar only from the darkest parts of my mind. Have I averted catastrophe or brought it on? Why for the life of me can't I be more deliberate? Was allowing them free will the deliberate action here? The rush intensifies, catching again and again, and I almost go for my throat again. I can sense the old ivy there, the beginnings of seeds, and the flowers that grow through my body when I dare to close my eyes.

The others don't dream.

"Sleeping in the park?" Dylan's snapping his fingers in front of my face. "Red. Red. Starboy. It's your partner back on earth, trying to corral your companions. About to go on a two month bonding journey that may or may not end with our collective deaths?"

I breathe something I can barely understand myself.

"Okay. Not funny." Dylan says, gaze softening. I want to kiss him on the bridge of his splotched nose, and then punch him in the face.

"If we could find somewhere outside of town, that would be preferable," I say.

"Agreed. Doesn't it feel like this place is empty to you? Really empty, I mean, I know most of this area is... we've seen better. Oh, that's an idea! You and me, buddy. We can judge every city from here to... wherever. I think Alex has the location in his phone now, so heck, we just get to kick back and relax."

I force a smile. "That's my specialty."

Dylan frowns slightly, mismatched eyes seeing right through my pitiful facade of calm. When he leans in and presses his mouth against mine, draws our bodies into alignment, I can taste blood. He's been biting his tongue again. I'm too wrapped in his thin arms and his living, pulsating warmth to protest, to ask him if he needs help, too, and I'm inhaling his air, breathing in perfect sync with him as we pull away slightly. I hate that he has to shut me up like this but I love shutting up. He whispers, "Red, you need to stop stressing."

"I'm not stressed." I beg.

Dylan raises an eyebrow.

"I'm not abnormally stressed. And you-- you sided against me--" I push him away from me. "--and then made out with me, right afterwards!"

"I sided against you for your own sake. They're restless and our authority doesn't count for as much as it used to because there's not this constant state of panic hanging over our heads."

"Not for them, maybe." I mutter.

"We need to conserve our efforts. We can turn back if it gets bad, but doing something again, giving them some reason to be a family, some shared goal... they need this. I know it'd be safer to keep running, but sometimes it's not just about 'safer'." he says. "I'm sorry. I knew you'd go against me if I mentioned it, but Red, you're going to run your own authority into the ground and I hate seeing you that stressed."

"And it falls on you to do all of this why, exactly?"

"Someone has to look out for you." he says.

My eyes well up with tears. "Why do you make it so hard for me to be angry with you?"

"Because I'm confident everything's going to be alright." He smirks. It's a stupid, shut-up-and-let-me-kiss-you-again kind of smirk. "Is that so bad?"

"Don't say that." I sigh.

"Do you remember the last time you said everything was going alright?"

"Yes... everything went alright." he says.

I restarted twenty times that day. It was one of the rare occasions when Elle loses it and it was at such an interval each time that I had to deal with it way further back in the day. Thankfully I remembered to go right back to my starting point instead of travelling somewhere closer to the event, which would have been catastrophic, but it was also an intensely long period of high stress.

"Of course," I say, my voice dying out in my throat.

"You figured that one out," he shrugs. "I'll never understand how you do it. Wait. What if management is your superpower?"

"Maybe it is?" I say. Well, then maybe they made me useless on purpose courses through my head but I know that's not true and further under the truth lies like an underground river coursing with maybe they wanted to see how much suffering they could inflict on a single living thing before it gave and I don't know how I could be so ungrateful as to be thinking about suffering here, surrounded by him, but I've always been good at ignoring my blessings. "We should... handle everyone."

They're being handled. I catch Kali, Angel, and Elle with the others, Kali still staring in my general direction, her eyes glowing like those of a cat in low lighting. She watches not our faces but our hands, which are still threaded through each other. I can sense Dylan growing more insistent (how many turns of this planet have I spent drinking in his presence, revelling in each small detail of his face?) and I'm forced to insist that this is a bad time.

"They're not going to stop listening to me now, do you think?" I ask as we move closer to the group, which is back into an outwards file. We never conveyed any instructions to Kali, but I'm not in a mood to contradict her, either, so I guess I'll stop her if she herds us over a cliff or something. Kali usually doesn't lose it (she's too deliberate--that's more terrifying than Mary and Adaline put together) and my head is throbbing right now.

"No," Dylan says, almost forcing a laugh.

"Mary never listened to you," says Kali.

My head stills. The venom in her voice, earlier... three times over, I'd heard that. Kali's speeches generally vary the most, but this time, it was the same sets of words. The vitriol crosses the capricious whims of the subtly-altering stream of time, and I'm lucky enough to be privy to it... "Sorry, Kali." I say.

"For what?" she asks. It's not a question of what I could have to be sorry for. She's asking me what I'd like to apologize for first.

Sometimes I forget which actions of mine have carried over.

We settle at last in a place where the river and various trees have eroded a sizeable cave, the likes of which is unlikely to fall in on us. Said river gurgles with cheerful noise alongside us, and I pull away from it. "Glad we've all come to a decision," I tell the group. "We'll start tomorrow, again, as a team. I know it seems like this was divisive, but I think we all want the same thing here--we just want to know how best to go about it. I know I was against this, and I still think we should be cautious, but I want you to know..." I trail off. They're all watching, and my throat is dry. I'm so thankful. "I love you all. Good night."

"Night, Red." says Dylan.

"Night." echoes Trace.

The sentiment ripples through the group, and I even get a genuinely respectful "Good night, and thank you," from Mary, even though I can still see her white teeth split in a grin.

My heart warms. The air is humid, the night unseasonably cold, and the others go from over my flock, feeling sheepish and numb. The soft sights of the other, half asleep, only serve to cement the emptiness boring a hole in my stomach, an emptiness that tastes like resentment and desperate longing.

It's not just that they can take any form they want, but more that they're still distinctly themselves no matter what they become. Just by looking over them, I can recognize Elle, slim and dark; Angel, thick and maternal; Mimsy, whose enigmatic white hair has become a snow-colored coat of fur. Last time I shifted, I couldn't remember my own face. The wolf in my head watches me, eyes empty and animal, and I shiver, sinking back against the earth. The river calls to me, pulls me out of myself, the noise of it growing less playful and more ominous as the starless night settles on, darkening the land to the color of cast shadows.

They'd travel faster if you weren't lagging behind. The river can take you where you need to go.

It's a bad night, and this is a bad hour, but it's not as if this hasn't happened before. Dylan was first concerned when I ran my fingers over a fire until they began to blister, long after we knew how dangerous fire was. It took me a long time to sort out healthy curiosity from the dangerous thoughts, but possessing the ability to rewind time at will helped, somewhat. It never quiets the urges, but if there are no scars, no one else has to worry about me.

I need to save my time. That's a bad excuse. There are no good excuses, so I'll take it, but I need something solid right now. Something better than... no. I don't know what I'm looking for. It's all a mess of string I can't tie together or unravel. I should be trying harder, but there's no way up and out of this.

Dylan puts his snout up on my chest, and I put a hand around his head. He's more fox than wolf, his features sharp and brown eyes large, and his head is cocked to the left, which makes his ears flop.

"I'm fine," I tell him, flicking one upwards, painfully aware of how petty and small I sound.

Dylan's big, sad eyes flicker closed, and he makes a soft whistling sound as he exhales, snuffling as he draws in breath. I'm alone in the dark again, so, with a quick twitch of my glasses, I hold my hand skywards and try to imagine the bones knitting into a digitigrade formation. As soon as they begin to shift, panic rises up in my mind. I can't believe after all this time, I'm still afraid... like I still can't comprehend that I'm a monster. Instead, I'm still panicking like any normal human would when surrounded by wolves.

(A/N 2: And thus ends the "first round". This weekend was worse than expected, so I'm just running off of queue right now, but I have five chapters ready so the story will be around for a while. Hopefully everyone is still following along well! I'm curious to know who everyone's favorites are, or what POV styles you're enjoying best. Also, if I've failed to clarify anything, please call me out on it. Your comments are ALWAYS appreciated.)