Rain or Shine | Soulmate AU 1.5 |

12

I drag my ass off of the couch and make my way to my bedroom. The top drawer of my bedside table doesn't have much in it, but the little things it holds are the most important to me. My counterpart necklace, burnt out and black as it is. A blanket from Damien that I stole the most often, folded into a neat square. There are a bunch of movie ticket stubs from all the way back in 2009 and 2010, evidence of the kind of dates that we typically went on. I even have the t-shirt he wore religiously to lounge around our suite in, a worn t-shirt from his high school that's soft from hundreds of washes.

I pluck the counterpart necklace from the drawer, shutting it with my legs as I make my way out of the room. I take the elevator up to the roof and brace myself as I step off, mentally preparing for the conversation that's about to take place. It's not going to be easy, but Nick deserves to feel as better as she can.

She's sitting in a spot close to where I usually find Lake, knees pulled to her chest as she looks out over the city. I'm surprised to find that it's already nighttime, but my judgement is completely thrown considering I've barely been able to keep track of what day it is lately.

I dangle my counterpart necklace in front of her face when I get close enough. She must've heard me come out here because she doesn't even startle, instead grabbing the necklace before I can pull away.

"Is this..." she trails off, eyes flicking over to me as I sit down next to her.

"Yeah," I reply.

"You know, none of us ever knew," she says quietly. "You never wore it, you never talked about it, and we let it go, but...it would've been different if we knew it was like this. Cecelia and I bothered you about it when we first joined the team for ages until you told us to stop."

"It's not something you just drop on people, Nick," I say defensively.

"I know."

"And listen, at least I know what you're going through, huh? At least a good idea of it."

She sends me a watery smile.

"I'd prefer if that wasn't true, Max. For both of us."
"I know, but that's how it is, and we can't change that," I reply, accepting the necklace when she hands it back to me.

"It's just so hard, Max. I've been waiting for so long. I've been so excited. When I felt it warm up this morning, my heart leapt. It felt like what winning the lottery must be like. But then it turned black and cold and deactivated and everything fell apart so fast," she explains quietly, picking at a loose thread on her t-shirt. "It's the one thing I've been looking forward to for so long. I basically figured once I met him, I'd plan my life around him, and now I don't know what I'm going to do. He was everything and I didn't even get to meet him."

This is one of the problems with the counterpart system in our society. People know they're waiting for someone and that someone is out there, so that's the one person they plan for. For people who adhere to the counterpart construct as much as Nick did, most things about their future aren't concrete. Your counterpart can be literally anyone, and being with them can involve quite a bit of life-rearranging. She was ready to do that at the drop of a hat, and she never even got to try.

"I get it, Nick. Damien and I...well. I found an engagement ring in our suite after he died. Our team didn't know we were together yet, and I didn't think he'd be asking anytime soon, but he was. Everything changes so fast, it's hard to catch up."

"I just never really understood people who end up in situations like mine," she mumbles. "Why make us counterparts if we never even get to meet?"

"I can't answer that, but nobody really knows a lot about how it works. You know that. What I always thought, though, and lots of people think it too, is that things about souls? 'Two souls bound together until the end of time and beyond'? I think it makes sense. I like to believe it."

"Do you believe in the afterlife? Like, heaven?"

"Maybe. Maybe that's what they mean. It always made me think that maybe we have different lives? Like, reincarnation, I guess. So if that's true, no doubt you'll meet him then, even if it's as different people," I reply, shrugging my shoulders. There's really no way of knowing the truth until, well, death, and probably not even then.

We lapse into silence. She picks at her shirt and I twist my pendant around in my hands.

"Does it ever get any easier?" she says quietly. "I mean, I never really met him, so I didn't really know him, but. The loss?"

I sigh heavily, sitting back on my hands and looking out beyond the edge of the rooftop. I don't think I'll ever get over just how beautiful New York can be at night. The view is crowded by buildings and streets, but the lights are kind of mesmerizing to look at.

"It can. If you don't hold onto it. I lost Dame just about ten years ago, and I never let myself deal with it, so it never got better or easier. I think being confronted with it the past couple of weeks has kinda forced me to, which is probably for the best."

"How can you just...let go like that?"

"I don't know. Don't dwell on what could've been, I guess. All those what-ifs are dangerous for you. I think it's okay to think about it for a little while, but not for too long. It'll wreck you. I thought about what could have and should've happened for years and nothing ever got better because of it."

"I guess you're right," she murmurs with a wobble in her voice, brushing her hair behind her ear.

I place the necklace in my lap and open my arms to offer a hug. It's not something I do often. The team knows that and they never really ask or try.

"Hug?" I offer. She leans into me almost immediately and accepts the arms I wrap around her. Her shoulders shake and the fabric of my shirt becomes noticeably damp, but I wait until she's ready to let go.

She leans away a little while later and wipes her eyes, offering a tiny smile as she collects herself.

"Well. At least we have each other," she reasons. I smile back. She's right. I didn't had anyone before. Maybe it'll be easier now.

We go back inside and head down to the common floor. The first thing we notice when we step off the elevator is the smoke wafting through the air, swirling around in the light of the ceiling bulbs. There's loud cursing coming from the direction of the kitchen which sounds suspiciously like Flint. Right. It's team dinner night and it's Flint's turn to cook.

Nick and I move towards the kitchen despite the smoke and shouting. Sure enough, Flint is panicking in front of a pan of what looks to be a charred attempt at baked chicken.

"It was supposed to be chicken parm!" he exclaims miserably, grabbing the pan with mitten covered hands so he can toss it in the sink and blast some cold water over it.

Cecelia and Tony are fanning papers around to try and get the smoke to dissipate. The vent over the stove is working overtime to do the same. Nick joins to try and help, but I hang back just so I can look on fondly.

This is my team.