"This is nice."

Abby guided Dan along the stone path that crossed over a gentle stream. the pair walked hand in hand through the Summers' property, exploring Abby's childhood haunts. They were alone, or at least as alone as one could get within the mansion's grounds. Dan assumed Coldwater guards were shadowing them from a distance, but the mercenaries were blessedly discreet.

Abby squeezed his hand tighter at his declaration, and gifted him with a beaming smile. It was hard not to feel peaceful out here, as close to nature as one could get this close to civilization. The weather was sunny but cool, with a soft and constant breeze that kept the trees swaying. There was birdsong in the air, and the soft babbling of a flowing brook, and a sense of peace that draped over the woods like a gentle blanket.

They were disconnected here. No television nor radio. No cell phones, though Dan could summon his back in an instant if necessary. But that would defeat the point. They were both tired of watching bad things happen from afar. Dan had returned home less than an hour ago, having finished his task. He'd ripped the People's havens back into reality and left the consequences behind him. He'd come home safe, having not even seen an enemy combatant, as he had promised. The results, Dan knew, would not be pretty.

They'd adjourned to the woods in lieu of watching things play out. No good could possibly come from that; only guilt and self-doubt. Anastasia seemed to think she had things well in hand, and Dan could only believe her. She'd all but exterminated the People once, and even if she'd missed their resurgence Dan was pretty confident she could take them in a straight fight like this ought to be. Anastasia Summers seemed like the type of person who could take anyone in a straight fight; that was just the kind of person she was.

Whatever happened would happen, and Dan would rather spend time with his girlfriend than agonize over what-ifs.

The two lovers walked the shores of the stream until it reached a crescent shaped lake. Dan watched a flock of gargantuan swans paddle across the placid surface, their purple ringed bills dipping occasionally into the waters depths to fish out a catch. Abby led him along the blue marble that lined the lake's edges until they reached a gently sloping wooden bridge that cut through its center. The pitter patter of rubber soles on wooden planks caught the attention of the nearby swans, who regarded the intruders with curiosity rather than hostility.

"They're not dangerous?" Dan asked as they stopped at the apex of the bridge.

Abby leaned on the side of the bridge closest to the swans. She dipped her hand down towards them, and one paddled dutifully over. Dan was startled by just how enormous they were, each swan roughly the mass of a pony. The approaching bird's neck was so long that Abby's hand could reach its crest even from on the bridge. She rubbed her hand along the swan's brow, gently massaging its head for a few moments.

"They're perfectly safe," Abby murmured. "They are bred to be curious and gentle. They look scary, but they're big softies on the inside."

Dan approached one, carefully extending his hand towards it. The swan's bill was the length of his forearm, but it nudged into his hand like a dog looking for attention. Its feathers were remarkably soft.

"How did you get them all to have the same upgrade?" Dan asked. The swans were cosmetically the same. The only real difference he could spot was in their bills. Some were a little differently shaped than others, but Dan attributed that to gender, along with the general wear and tear of life. Animal upgrades were generally a crapshoot. The patterns didn't hold to them like humans, meaning that an upgrade's results varied dangerously. They generally were not seen as worth it. Having an entire flock with the exact same upgrade was unheard of, as far as he knew.

"I don't know," Abby admitted. "We've had them since I was... seven or eight, I think. Grandma got them as a birthday present, to keep me company."

Dan paused in his petting, and the swan bumped against his hand. He resumed.

"You grew up here?" he asked.

"Here, and my parents' place in New York City," Abby replied. she crossed her arms on the bridge's waist-high rails and leaned against them, her torso extending over the water. More swans flocked towards her, eager for attention. "My parents would drop me off here whenever they took a trip overseas. It was usually just me and Mama Ana."

"No Jason?" Dan asked.

Abby shook her head. "He went with them. He needed to learn the family business and build relationships in that world."

"So just you and your grandma and the swans, alone on this giant piece of land?"

"No swans, not at first. I was confined to the house when I was young, but I wanted to explore." Abby chuckled to herself. "Mama Ana was just as busy as she is now. She left me to my own devices most of the time and I always ended up in these woods. They were a lot thicker back then. One day it rained while I was out there and I tracked mud across her nice carpet. She was furious when she finally realized what I'd been doing."

"She was probably worried about your safety," Dan noted.

"Yeah," Abby smiled fondly, as she ran her fingers down the pure white neck of an insistent bird." She got me these swans that year. Said something to stare at would keep me out of trouble."

"Sounds nice," Dan offered. But really, it just sounded sad. The life of a lonely little girl whose family didn't have the time for her. Being raised in opulence didn't guarantee a happy childhood, just a stable one.

"It was." Abby sighed, pulling away from the water and sinking into a crouch. She pressed her forehead against the wooden rail and closed her eyes. The flock trumpeted sadly at her absence, but eventually pulled away. They returned to their little corner of the lake, doing whatever it was that swans do to pass the time. Dan knelt beside his girlfriend, brow furrowed in concern. He rubbed his hand in slow circles on her back.

"I hate it here," she finally admitted. "There's happy memories here and there but most of it just empty. I look around and I feel blank. Hollow. Like something carved out all the feely bits and left this shell behind. I can't stand this place, and I can't stand the people living here."

"Your grandmother lives here," Dan reminded her. "Everyone else is just a guest."

"My grandmother." Abby snorted. "My family is intolerable, and the only one I can tolerate is a monster." She shook her head, then leaned hard into Dan's shoulder. Her face was burrowed against his arm. "She was really going to let the military run wild?"

"I don't know how much of it would really be her decision," Dan stated carefully, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, "but yes, she seemed okay with it."

"I've always known the kind of person she is," Abby confided. "Ever since I was young."

"You told me," Dan said. And she had; it was a kidnapping attempt long ago. Granny Terminator had interrupted it, forced the terrified men to have a tea party with her young granddaughter, then disappeared the men.

"It's different to have it thrown in your face all the time," Abby continued. "To see it on the news, or hear about it from you, or her. I could deal with it when I wasn't here. I didn't have to think about it. When we talked it wasn't ever... serious. Over the phone, or at the odd family thing. Keeping things distant. It's different now." She took a deep, wet breath. "I just want things to go back to normal."

"Normal," Dan repeated sadly. "Abby, we're already at normal. This thing with the People? The riots all over the country? It's not the kind of thing that springs up over night. It was there all along. They just... magnified it. Even if everything goes perfectly in Austin, I don't know if things will go back to before."

"Then..." Abby paused in bit her lip. "Then I want to go back home to Austin, me and you, and just live out our lives. Whatever else happens can happen."

"We'll get there," Dan promised. Abby shifted in his arms, putting her back against the railing. She sat down on the wooden bridge, legs splayed out across the planks. Dan kept an arm wrapped around her shoulders and she leaned into him. They sat there for a few minutes, just basking in the sun.

It killed Dan to break the silence, but he had to. "The thing with Bartholomew..."

Abby cracked open an eye and regarded him.

"I shouldn't have run off," Dan said. "I shouldn't have done things on my own. I don't regret it, but I know that it could've gone bad."

"It could've gone bad," Abby repeated, "and nobody would have ever known. Do you know how frightening that is? With your power, Danny, you could go anywhere. It's not like anyone can track you without your phone. You could disappear on me one day, and I'd never know what happened. I'd never know if you were hurt, or killed, or tripped into another dimension, or even just got tired of me and left!"

Dan hugged her tight. "That's not going to happen."

"I wouldn't know," she insisted. "I don't think I ask for much, Danny. I'm not your boss, and I'm not telling you what to do, but if we're going to be together, you need to talk to me before you run off and do something crazy. Because I don't ever want you vanishing on me. I don't think I could take that."

"I'll talk to you," Dan promised. "I won't ever keep you wondering."

He felt her relax, tension draining from her like a sieve. "Good."

The bridge was hard and cold and soon even warm intimacy could not soothe their aching muscles. They stood, shaking out the soreness of the day. The sun was low on the horizon, but it wasn't yet dark. They decided to walk one last lap around the property. They followed the stream once more, going against the flow as the branch connected to a man-made river that ran the length of the property.

The river curved its way around the backside of the mansion, and they followed the slope at a languid pace. They eventually reached the back half of the property, the opposite side from the entrance, where the river branched once again. The stream was meant to feed into yet another pond, this one smaller and closer to the mansion. The tributary was a tiny thing, just a few inches of water flowing over a bed of polished stones. The river's source was artificial, purified saltwater pumped in from the ocean. It was a clear and vivid blue, as beautiful as any beach.

Dan and Abby stopped their walk just before the river branched, just beyond the tree line. They could see the split brook as it ran down towards the Summers' mansion. They could see the shining river bed, polished rocks reflecting what was left of the sun. And they could see the advancing wave of rust red liquid; inky tendrils that darkened and stained the stones.

Abby's hand tightened hard around Dan's, and he sent his veil out in a web before him. It snaked across the dirt and grass, twisting through the river bed and tasting the water. He knew the feeling immediately, but traced the stream to its source. His veil found flesh, soulless and bloody.

The corpse of a Coldwater guard floated in the river, savaged as if by a wild animal.