Flash, sizzle, snap! I gasp, slamming back hard against the floor, hands flying to my neck. It tingles fiercely and the phantom grasp of Vanish's hand squeezes my skin, but it doesn't hurt. I am not being strangled and I am not being attacked.

I am alone.

Peeling my eyes open, it takes a moment for them to focus on the ceiling of a Teleporter. A Teleporter. I am in a Teleporter. Implications grasp my chest and squeeze, and I scramble to my feet, limbs weak and trembling with adrenaline. A steady pulse of ice drums in the back of my neck, stabbing icicles down my arms and into my numb fingers. I clench them, breaths heavy as I turn in a slow circle.

Smooth, rounded black walls with a strip of green light glowing at the bottom and at the top unfold before me. To my left, the green light sweeps upwards in a rectangle, outlining the door.

Out. I can get out and find out where I am and—figure something out from there. Stumbling towards it, I press my palm into the panel and push hard. It slides out and to the right with a hiss and an affirmative chirp.

In the open space behind it is a wide, circular room with red and black accents and many consoles covered in scrolling holograms, but what makes my lungs freeze are the two people standing in only a few strides away.

The figure farthest from me is shrouded in an oversized gray hoodie, dark gray pants, and bandages for shoes. The girl in front is tall and sleek, dressed in a purple shirt and black-leather jacket that ends above her waist. At her hips are two curved knives and an empty gun holster.

Her hair is black and cut to her shoulders, the tips dyed a metallic navy and a large stripe of purple sweeping down the side of her face. She and the gray figure behind turn at the Teleporter's chirp. Everything else fades as our eyes meet.

They're purple. Deception's purple.

Deception's face splits into a delighted grin with far too white teeth and she cat-walks towards me, arms open as if for a hug. "Elias! You made it!"

Something leaps in my chest other than my heart, kicking up a storm of shadows and dust as it digs up purple strands from the back of my mind. "S-stay back." My tongue trips over my teeth, tangled in purple. A spasm grasps my shoulders and I take a step back, glance at the walls around me, and scramble out of the door, skirting around the outside of the Teleporter.

She slows, arching an eyebrow. "Well, that's no way to greet your girlfriend after so long."

All the air in my lungs turns into ice and my feet snap to the floor like magnets. Wait, actually? Girlfriend? Girl. Friend? I'm—she's—we're—really?

A frown overtakes her smile and she peers at me, coming to a full stop a few steps away. "Spade? Elias, dear? Are you okay?" Her eyes slip down my body, a mask of twilight and dark corners shadowing her face with each moment that passes, the flicker of concern pressing her lips together. Crossing the distance between us, she brushes her knuckles against my cheek. "What did they do to you?"

I stiffen. Her lipstick is lilac. A few strands of hair sweep across her face, drawing wispy lines towards her button nose. And her eyes. They're a rich purple, depthless as the shadows behind a throne and hauntingly alluring like the pulsing heartbeat of a black hole. They suck me in, pin me in place, dig purple roots into my chest and rearrange my insides.

From somewhere distant, warm fingers close around my hand. I flinch, a stab of winter unlodging my lungs long enough for a small gasp, but I don't pull away. I can't pull away. I am somewhere behind my eyes, slowly sliding backwards away from my body into a vortex of static, darkness, and mauve, too far to make my limbs respond.

She turns my hand over and smooths out my curled fingers, eyes flickering down for just a moment.

I slam back into place, the frantic thunder of my heart and maelstrom of thoughts falling on my ears like a swarm of bees armed with machine guns. She's so close. She's touching me. And I—

"Six months is a long time." Her voice is quiet, soft, like the wings of a bird brushing against a rabbit as it carries it away in its talons. "...and the highest security facility, too. What were you doing getting yourself captured?"

Deception lifts her gaze to mine, stealing my breath. They're brimming with worry and a silent, implied question wavering just out of my reach. "Elias..." Her hand drifts to my cheek (it's warm and rough with callouses), tone dropping low to a purr, a steel in it forming a knife's edge against my throat. "Tell me what happened."

It's her eyes again. They're sucking me in, pushing me out, wrapping me in muted hues. It's purple—lilac, mauve, byzantium, phlox, amethyst, royal—everywhere, purple in my lungs, purple in my thoughts, purple reaching into my throat and teasing out an answer. My mouth opens, words forming on my tongue and I shout at it to stop, scramble for my body, but nothing moves. I can't move. I. Can't. Move. I am stuck. I am—

An avalanche hits my hands, drowning the purple in an instant. I wrench my eyes away and stagger back, head spinning. "No, stop! Stop!" My hands fly to my hair, then to my face, a blizzard sliding down my arms. "I'm—" the words tremble on my lips, scrambled with each zap and jerk coursing through me, "—I'm not your boyfriend."

The word is all round edges and soft sounds, too circular and suggestive. I spit it out and scrape my tongue against my teeth, heat sparking against the avalanche in my arms. We're not a thing anymore and as far as I know, we never were. I can't—she can't just pretend nothing happened.

She stares at me—I stare at her lips. I can't look at her eyes, I can't—mouth slightly open and rounded with horror. Then her face twists and she clenches her right hand on the hilt of one of her blades. "The heroes did this, didn't they?" She snarls with so much venom, I cringe.

The heroes did this? The heroes stole my memories? The heroes made her my 'ex'? Sparks of heat grind at the gears of fear and catch with a roar. "No, they didn't! I did! I—I blanked myself; wiped my memories." My chest burns, my legs ache, my face snarls with the heat, and purple flashes through it all.

Deception recoils. "Elias, you didn't!"

"I DID!" It burst from me along with the blaze fighting with the snow, stinging my gums and the back of my eyeballs with tears. "I don't remember you and I don't want to! I'm not the same person you knew. Now let me go back! I don't want to be here! Please—" A hitch, the blaze dies, leaving me empty and ashen. "—please take me back."

My voice rings hollow, spiced with bitterness and the overwhelming wave of exhaustion dimming the bite of winter. In that cell after everything was over, I gave up searching for the past me and all I knew; I am not him anymore and I can't ever be and that's fine.

I am Elias, the brother Elias, shaky friend of David and the Storm Cell team, finding myself with Skittles the cat and Dr. Egret to help me. I had a place to sleep, a future, while uncertain, was open wide, and time left to spend how I wanted. I was me, and while I don't know who exactly that is, it's better than him, Past Me, Blank Slate, Denizen, whoever.

But now I am face to face with the past, the potential for all the answers I searched for all wrapped up in one person and I am so tired.

Please take me back. Please just let me go...home.

Deception draws a shaken breath and breathes it out in a short puff. She straightens, fixing a mask of calm over her turmoil-torn eyes and leveling her voice in a carefully constructed calm. "Wraith, please take him to his room. He needs rest and—and some time to recover. I'll get some refreshments for both of us." Our eyes meet, her gaze gripping my chest in an invisible fist. "Your favorite refreshments."

I force myself to look away, clenching my fists. The Teleporter's door is only a lunge away, green light beckoning. Can I make it? My eyes slide to the gray figure—Wraith—approaching. A dissonant note drops to my stomach. No. She moves with a fighter's grace and I don't know how to operate a Teleporter. She'd probably grab me before I figured it out.

I am stuck here. Stuck in the past. Stuck with her. My throat thickens and my nails dig into my palms, drawing little feeling. "Please take me back." I have to try again. I have to get out of here. "My brother is waiting for me."

All Deception does is give me a despairing look. "Go with Wraith and rest. It's safe here, I promise. It'll be okay." A fierce glint flashes in her eyes as her tone hardens with conviction. "I'll get you back to yourself, Elias. I'll find you while you're lost. You know, just like I promised I would. You'll be back to yourself in no time, no matter what the heroes did to you."

The last drop of hope slides out of my veins and I drop my head, weariness' blanket turning my bones into lead and thawing out my fingers.

"Come," Wraith mutters, her voice rough and husky. She takes my arm, and without preamble or pressure, starts to lead me away.

My feet follow with heavy steps, my chest full of broken glass. I could go for one of David's encouraging smiles or bad attempts at jokes right now. Or a cuddle session with Skittles and a cup of hot chocolate as I crash on Edison's couch. Megabytes, being miserable couch potatoes with both of them would be amazing instead of this. I want to be with them, in the present.

I want to go home.