Mist clung low to the ground when Gabriel woke.

The cold had deepened during the night, but he was warm, his coat tucked close, and a steady weight resting against his back.

Leonardo’s arm had slipped sometime during sleep but remained curled around him, fingertips resting at his hip. His breath was soft against Gabriel’s neck, warm and even.

Gabriel stayed still, not from fear, but because it felt unexpectedly safe. Like moving too quickly might break the moment.

His fingers twitched at his side, half-curled.

They had nearly kissed.

The memory flickered unbidden, and with it, a tight pull deep in his chest. He’d stopped it. But he hadn’t wanted to.

Carefully, Gabriel shifted forward and out from under the blanket. Leonardo didn’t stir.

He turned slightly, watching for a breath. It came, slow and steady. The shimmer in Leonardo’s eyes was gone, replaced with a faint furrow of sleep.

Gabriel crouched near the edge of the camp and reached for the comm unit, fingers brushing mist-damp stones. The device was cold in his hands. He pressed the side power switch once. Static buzzed faintly, but nothing lit up.

He checked the battery capsule. The first one was drained.

His breath fogged faintly in the air as he reached into the pouch for a spare and slotted it into place. The screen flickered, lines and distortion, but the interface came online. He angled it toward his chest to shield it from the wind.

Then he adjusted the frequency.

Nothing.

Just a faint, familiar pulse.

He frowned and pulled up the diagnostic panel. Reset the sync delay. Watched the numbers try to align.

Still static.

A hand came down gently over the screen.

Leonardo knelt beside him, his palm angled to block the glow. His voice was low, still rough with sleep but alert. “Try syncing the pulse delay manually. Give it a quarter beat between intervals.”

Gabriel followed the instruction without a word. His fingers moved automatically, quickly.

The comm unit blinked. A flare of green. A signal pulse burst outward, brief and bright.

Gabriel held his breath.

At first, nothing.

Then a flicker of static.

Then a voice.

“…hael... do you cop...”

It cut off in a jagged burst of noise. A broken frequency spike followed, then white hiss.

Gabriel flinched like he’d been struck. “That was Kael.”

Leonardo leaned in. His expression didn’t change, but something in his posture did. Alert. Listening.

The signal looped. White noise swelled, then dropped. A long pause. Then another pulse. It came back garbled.

Gabriel stared at the screen. His knuckles had gone white.

“It’s looping,” he said. “The zone’s bouncing the signal back.”

He shut the comm and lowered it slowly.

Leonardo watched him. He didn’t speak immediately.

“You’re upset.” he said finally, voice calm.

Gabriel nodded, jaw clenched. “I hate feeling useless. Even when I know I’m not.”

He didn’t look at Leonardo. His voice stayed steady, but something in his shoulders tightened again. “I just want to do something. Anything. And every time I try... the zone pushes back.”

Leonardo didn’t offer false comfort. He didn’t interrupt. He only sat beside him, quiet, letting the silence settle between them until it stopped being sharp.

Then he reached out, without touching, and gently angled the comm screen to close the display fully.

Gabriel finally looked at him.

“We’ll find another way,” Leonardo said. “You’re not the problem.”

Gabriel held his gaze for a second longer than he meant to. Then gave a single nod.

The wind shifted faintly across the plateau, curling the mist into ribbons.

Gabriel rose and slid the comm unit into his bag. “We should keep moving. Higher ground might help.”

Leonardo stood beside him. “Agreed.”

He glanced up once, but he said nothing.

Gabriel didn’t either.

Some things didn’t need to be spoken aloud.

They descended the plateau just after sunrise.

Mist coiled around their ankles, silver-bright and slow to part. Every footstep left a faint imprint on the slick moss-covered stone, but even those seemed to vanish if you glanced away too long.

The terrain below folded into dense, tangled woods. No birds. No insects. Just the rustle of fog through leaves and the faint click of dry twigs shifting overhead. Hollow trees rose around them like columns.

Gabriel marked the first tree with a piece of white chalk.

Leonardo paused behind him, one brow raised. “Old trick?”

“Older than me,” Gabriel replied. “If the terrain’s looping, this will tell us.”

Leonardo gave a short nod. “Smart.”

They walked for another hour.

Gabriel marked again.

Then a third time, each mark identical, just low and out of sight.

And then...

“…We’ve passed this one before,” Gabriel said suddenly and he crouched and swept away a thin patch of dirt beneath the lowest root curve.

An X stared back at him. Faint. Smudged. But still there.

“I made this.” His voice was quiet. “Thirty minutes ago.”

Leonardo stepped back, gaze scanning the twisted branches overhead. “That’s not just looped terrain. Something’s rewriting the route behind us.”

Gabriel ran a hand over his face. “That’s why the scanner’s been fluctuating. It’s not static interference. The landscape itself is folding.”

Leonardo didn’t reply right away. He shifted closer and when Gabriel stood, their arms brushed.

He didn’t step away.

The path narrowed, curling up a rocky incline. He adjusted his balance, boot catching on uneven stone, and Leonardo’s hand came to his elbow, steadying him without a word.

Leonardo steadied him with a hand at his elbow, silent.

The touch lingered half a second too long.

Gabriel didn’t pull away.

They crested a ridge with a clear drop on one side, where thick fog made it impossible to tell how far down the slope went. The branches curved low again overhead, the moss clinging unnaturally to bark like skin.

Gabriel exhaled slowly.

His mind wasn’t on the landscape.

He should’ve been focused. Tracking the shifts. Noting the changes.

But all he could think about was how easily Leonardo moved beside him now. How quiet he’d become. How he hadn’t teased him once all morning.

And how every time their arms touched, Gabriel didn’t feel uneasy. He felt drawn.

I’m not afraid of him anymore, he thought, chest tightening. I’m afraid of how I want to stay near.

He glanced sideways.

Leonardo was scanning ahead, profile sharp against the fog. It made it harder to breathe.

Not from fear.

From how much Gabriel wanted this not to end.

He looked away quickly, heat rising to his face.

They stopped again near a low, clear stream, not because they needed to, but because the loop had pulled them in a circle, and their energy was draining faster than expected.

Gabriel crouched beside the water.

The surface was perfectly still.

Not frozen. Not rippling. Just unnaturally smooth, like polished glass reflecting a sky that didn’t move.

He pulled out the scanner again, more from habit than hope.

Leonardo lowered himself beside him, but his gaze didn’t drift to the scanner. It stayed on Gabriel, steady and unreadable.

“I’ve been thinking about earlier,” he said quietly. “When you guided me.”

Gabriel glanced up, cautious. “What about it?”

Leonardo's tone softened. “It didn’t just feel balanced. It felt... safe. Like your energy didn’t just match mine. It met it. No one’s ever done that before.”

Gabriel’s breath caught. He turned his head, trying to hide the blush rising in his cheeks, but not fast enough.

Leonardo’s lips curved. “Careful. If you keep doing that, I’ll start thinking I’m special.”

Gabriel swatted his arm without looking at him, but his ears burned brighter.

The scanner pinged, faint and useless. Gabriel closed it.

The afternoon passed in slow, looping silence.

The trees blurred together, wrong angles, misplaced shadows. Once, Gabriel could’ve sworn the same crow-shaped notch passed over them three times. The scanner readings stuttered. Even the light from above dimmed unnaturally early, as if the zone had decided to twist the day into something shorter.

By the time that warped daylight began to fade, they finally stopped, just long enough to adjust the portable shield and repack.

Leonardo crouched to fine-tune the shield arc, rigged from backup parts. It wouldn’t stop anything large, but it might delay smaller threats.

Gabriel knelt beside the pack, sorting through the capsule kit for warmth. His shoulders ached from the climb, but it was the tension beneath his skin that wore on him more.

“Hold still,” Leonardo said behind him.

Gabriel started to turn. “What...?”

Leonardo was already moving.

One knee planted beside him, steady and close. The other braced against the slope. He leaned forward, arms reaching around to Gabriel’s front. His hands slipped to Gabriel’s waist and found the field belt loop. Then the back clasp.

His fingers brushed skin.

Gabriel froze.

Leonardo’s breath ghosted against the side of Gabriel’s neck as he reached further, securing the generator mount.

“Too loose,” he murmured, more to himself than to Gabriel.

Gabriel’s pulse stuttered. He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Every muscle locked in place as Leonardo worked in silence, adjusting the clasp with calm efficiency, oblivious, or pretending to be, to the way Gabriel’s skin burned where his fingers passed. But when he finished, Leonardo didn’t pull back right away.

His hand brushed along Gabriel’s side as he drew away, not deliberately, not indecent, but slow. Measured.

Gabriel turned to look at him.

Their faces were close.

Closer than either had expected.

Gabriel didn’t move.

Leonardo didn’t blink.

Hazel eyes, lit faintly by the shield’s pulse, locked with Gabriel’s. They didn’t flick away. Steady. Focused.

Gabriel’s lips parted slightly. The air between them felt charged, hot and quiet all at once.

Leonardo’s voice was low, smooth. But not playful this time.

“Don’t look at me like that unless you want me to do something about it.”

Gabriel’s breath caught.

It wasn’t a threat. It wasn’t even flirtation. Not really. It was just a truth, said aloud.

“I’m not,” Gabriel said, but his voice cracked halfway through. He turned his face just enough to draw breath. His thoughts blurred under the weight of being seen so clearly.

Leonardo leaned back, barely. Just enough to give him space.

But he didn’t shift further. His presence remained close.

He tilted his head slightly. “That’s not a no.”

Gabriel didn’t reply.

His hands moved automatically, fingers sifting through the capsule bag with exaggerated calm. But his thoughts weren’t on the supplies. They weren’t on the zone or the shields or anything remotely practical.

They were stuck on the press of breath on his neck. The warmth of fingers at his hip. The pause before Leonardo had said anything at all.

They didn’t speak again.

But the silence between them wasn’t awkward, and neither of them did anything to change it.

They set off again in silence, weaving through warped light and twisted roots. Time passed strangely. No birds. No flickers of light. Even the branches stood still.

When they finally halted again, it was near the base of a massive tree. Its trunk twisted up like a braided column, bark streaked silver, branches forming a wide lattice overhead.

“We stay off the ground tonight,” he said. “It’s changed again. Don’t trust it.”

Gabriel nodded. He didn’t trust it either.

Leonardo powered a low kinetic boost and launched upward. He caught a low branch, vaulted to the next and within seconds, he’d reached a stable perch halfway up the tree, a thick branch curved like a cradle against the trunk.

He looped a rope and dropped it down. “Your turn.”

Gabriel slung the climbing harness over his chest and began the ascent.

The first few steps went well. He tested each knot and foothold twice, heart thudding but the bark was slicker than it looked. About halfway up, he reached for a higher branch. His boot slipped just as his weight shifted forward.

The rope jerked. His hand missed the next hold.

And then he was falling, a shout caught in his throat.

In the blink of a moment, Leonardo leapt from above, vaulting off his branch with a sharp breath and kinetic pulse. He caught Gabriel mid-fall, one arm tight around his back, the other hooking under his thighs. His boots struck a lower limb with a grunt, knees bending to absorb the shock. The whole tree trembled with the impact.

Gabriel clung to him, eyes wide.

Leonardo didn’t let go.

“You good?” he asked, breath tight but steady.

“I... yeah. I didn’t expect...” Gabriel swallowed. “Thanks.”

Leonardo didn’t tease him. He only adjusted his grip and gave a quiet, “Hold on.”

Then he pushed off again, legs coiling and releasing with kinetic force. The wind rushed around them as he launched them both upward, catching the target branch just above their original spot. He landed in a crouch and shifted Gabriel carefully into place as he straightened.

The perch wasn’t wide. Not enough room for them to lie side by side.

Gabriel tried to shift off him, but there was nowhere else to move, only open air on one side and rough bark at his back.

Leonardo reached for the portable shield unit with one hand, activating the safety curve above them. A faint blue shimmer formed, arching just enough to cover their bodies.

Gabriel looked around, then down at the tight space between them.

“There’s not enough room.”

Leonardo didn’t move. “Then lie down on me.”

Gabriel blinked. “On you?”

A beat. Then a slight, amused lift of Leonardo’s brow. “Unless you want to hang from the tree all night.”

Gabriel hesitated.

The words hit something buried. Instinct tensed his shoulders, a flash of old fear stirring. But Leonardo didn’t rush him. Didn’t move.

Just waited.

Gabriel drew a breath, slow and steady. Then another.

Carefully, he shifted to lie across Leonardo’s chest, one knee braced for balance as he adjusted. His cheek settled just below Leonardo’s collarbone, ear pressed to the steady thud of his heartbeat. One arm slid across his side for support.

Leonardo’s arms came around him, secure, unassuming. One at his waist, one folded beneath his back. His body radiated warmth, solid heat in the growing chill.

Neither of them spoke.

The silence above the Hollow stretched wide, broken only by the occasional creak of wood and the faint shimmer of atmospheric haze.

Leonardo exhaled slowly, chest rising beneath Gabriel’s cheek.

“You comfortable?” he asked, voice low.

Gabriel hesitated. “It’s… not bad.”

Leonardo’s hand traced lightly along his back. “You’re stiff.”

“I fell out of a tree,” Gabriel muttered.

“I caught you.”

Gabriel’s lips twitched against his shirt. “Barely.”

Leonardo gave a quiet, amused huff. “You’re heavier than you look.”

Gabriel didn’t respond. He could feel the slow, even rhythm of Leonardo’s pulse under his ear. The arm around him didn’t grip, just held. Somehow, that felt more intimate than anything else.

He let himself relax by degrees. His hand, resting at Leonardo’s side, curled once.

He didn’t know what would happen when they got back. If this would stay. If it could.

Just a few more days, he thought, eyes drifting shut. Then what happens when I can’t sleep without this?

Leonardo shifted faintly, drawing him closer. Not letting go.

And Gabriel, despite himself, didn’t want him to.