One (One Universe)

shock of vibrancy into the broad, brush-stroked colors that paint the horizon. Indigo layered with gold highlighted by burning ochre, playing against the deep brooding gray-blue of snow clouds rolling in.
    The spindly skeleton of a windmill traces a hard framework against the masterpiece, jolting me back to reality.
    My heart jumps. We have to get far away. Find someone who can help us figure out what these formulas all do. The Social Justice Hub to the West? Warfare to the South? Neither seems good. Seeking help at one feels inevitable. I shudder.
    Elias must think it’s because I’m cold because he rubs my arms, trying to warm them.
    “That’s how they used to get electricity from the wind, before the turbines,” Elias says, his voice having taken on a soothing cadence. It’s comforting that I can’t hear the anger there even though I know it’s just beneath the surface. For now, I need that.
    “I didn’t know,” I whisper, and a choke strangles my throat. Still, this is the one thing I need him to know — need him to be absolutely certain of, without a second thought. “I didn’t know, Elias, or I would have… We could have… I would have listened to you. I’m…” The tears come, slow, creeping down my cheek one at a time. “I’m sorry.”
    “I know,” he says simply.
    “You should have told me,” I say, my voice a bit stronger.
    I feel more solid in myself, my whole self, my One self, than I ever have in my whole life, even though I just apologized — something that used to feel like losing myself. For the first time, I know for sure that I will not float away. I am in control of this moment. I am in control of myself. I push my shoulders back.
    “I know,” he says, looking down at me, straight into my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
    I can’t say anything. Can’t make any words come out of my mouth. I’m sorry, and he’s sorry, but neither of us is. Not that the whole thing happened. Not really. This has cemented what we always thought. We don’t belong at the Hub, and we don’t belong at Nelson. The only place we really belong is with each other.
    Our breaths are quiet, shallow and waiting. The white cloud of steam coming from my lips brushes Elias’s arm. We are standing too close to be comfortable not saying anything, not doing anything.
    “I heard what you said to your Mom about me,” he murmurs. “At the Hub. When I was waking up.”
    “How I wasn’t leaving without you?”
    “Yeah. That, too.” A smirk spreads across his face, growing bigger with each breath he catches.
    I half-turn and snake my arms around his waist, falling into him, burying my face in his chest. I savor the feel of my heart swelling with it. Love. His and mine.
    “It…uh…it makes sense, doesn’t it?”
    “Hmmm?” Elias hums into my hair, breathing deeply. He’s smelling it again, and for the first time, I don’t care. I’m amazed he can still find the shampoo’s perfume — whatever it is — with all the smokiness, dirt, woods and cold that must be laced through it now.
    “Well. The only reason it worked with Michael and Max, and Nora and Lia — the transference, I mean — is because of how close they were. Are.”
    “It’s not true transference for them.” He rubs the tops of my arms protectively. “They’re not Ones. They already have those Supers. They just get stronger when they’re together.”
    “Right. Yes. We’re different. But the only reason we can actually transfer our powers to each other is because of how close we are. Because I — I mean, we — I mean I — feel this way. I’ve never trusted anyone like I trust you. Never felt this way about anyone, Elias.”
    He draws back, still holding on to the tops of my arms, and beams. “Well, you might as well just say it now.”
    “Yeah. Might as well.” I smile at him with my lips still closed and try to make my eyes tell him everything I’m thinking. He smiles back the same way and draws me to him again.
    After our teeth have stopped chattering, he stops holding me so tightly, and the telltale vibration takes the place of the shiver. The warmth. The buzz. So intense now, I can barely stand it. Suddenly, faith surges through me so hard and fast that it almost knocks me off my feet. I let one of my arms drop, and we stand there, side-to-side, fingers interlaced, gazing into the crisp, gray-white Nebraska sky.
    “Ready?” Elias asks.
    I squeeze his hand, hard. I nod, and my heart jumps. With all the things I’ve