The young man stepped out of the car, bending his body around the driver's seat as another, dark-haired and dark-eyed, watched his progress. He had no sooner pulled his foot from the car before the one waiting outside slammed the door shut.

"Watch it!" His cry was cut short when the other man grabbed him by the collar of his green jacket.

"After I take her home, you and I are going to have a little chat." He threatened. "And I'll warn you ahead of time, you ain't going to like it." The younger man shoved off his older companion's grip. He grimly set his jaw and nodded.

"Fine. I'll be waiting." He turned away and walked up the drive to his door step. The other man didn't wait and watch him go inside. He got back in the car quickly, starting the engine once more. A pale, shaking hand came to rest on his thigh. He looked at the girl it belonged to, huddled in the seat beside him. She opened her eyes and looked up at him through dampened eyelashes.

"Don't take me home."

He drove her out of town, past the streetlights and the sidewalks, the homes and the shops with their lights shining brightly. He drove her past the parks and the baseball diamonds, beyond the farm houses and the fields. He drove her until there was nothing around them but inky blackness, until the lights of their city were far away and muddled as if surrounded by frosted glass.

She remained still in the seat next to him most of the way. Her prolonged silence worried him until he realized she was sleeping. Soft snores rose above the thrum of the engine every so often. He slowed down to prevent disturbing her. God knew she needed the rest after all they had been through that evening.

He finally pulled over when they reached the plateau ridge above the lake. Below, the asphalt roads ended at the wall of trees. Dirt pathways led further into the forest, eventually ending at the lakeside. There were campsites scattered throughout the way. They had stopped at a few of them once or twice. Those times felt far away, now, like the lake stretched out in front of them. The waters shifted against the shores and glimmered sporadically. What light was reflecting on the surface he didn't know. There was nothing out here but them and the frigid wind. Even the ambient reflection of street lights upon the underbelly of the clouds was but a distant reminder of what they had left behind.

When the engine died, she stirred, slowly unfolding her legs into the compartment below the dash. She stared out into the night beyond the windshield. He watched her as she did so. Dark circles had formed beneath her eyes. She was fair-skinned but tonight she was simply pale and worn-looking. Her frame looked smaller than usual beneath his coat, a spare he kept in the back in case of emergencies and that she often used for a blanket. She looked tired, so very, very tired.

"You shouldn't have yelled at him like that." She said weakly. He scoffed under his breath. It came off more like a bark in the quiet interior. "You shouldn't have. It's not his fault."

"Yes it is. We're not pawns, Gwen, we're partners and he had no right to ask that of you today. Not after what happened." His voice was low but fierce. He could feel his anger in his hands as they tightened around the steering wheel, the creaking beneath his palms that let him know he was dangerously close to cracking it. It was impossible to rid himself of the image of her floating above the cargo boxes in the warehouse, her eyes glowing green, a voice so unlike her own issuing from her mouth. It, whatever it was, used her like she was nothing more than a telephone. He remembered the way she felt in his arms after it was done with her. His girl wasn't weak. His girl was strong, spirited, and willful. But laying on that table, buried against his chest, she was a scared little girl suddenly playing a dangerous game. And she had remained that way even after boarding their plane. It was then he realized it was far worse than he had originally thought.

"I wanted to help." She weakly defended. "Kevin, I -"

"You were in no shape to help and he knew it." At this, she frowned.

"I'm still part of this team, aren't I? How many times have you pushed yourself for our sake? Why can't I do the same without you thinking I can't do it?" He hesitated before answering, knowing he was treading thin ice, not wanting to excite her further. His hesitation fueled her, however, and she opened the car door to get out. Her actions were sluggish, which only irritated her more. The door swung back into her legs after she had shoved it and she grunted low in her throat as she pushed it all the way open. The concentration it took for her to step out and stand straight was evident in her furrowed brow, her clenched teeth. He cursed under his breath and followed her.

"Listen to me -"

"I was just as capable as either of you. " She looked up at him as he came around the front of the car. The air had turned cold. Clouds were steadily rolling in on the wind. She visibly quaked beneath his jacket. He came to stand in front of her, wrapping himself around her to block her from the wind. She did not fight him.

"I know you are, babe. Any other time, I wouldn't have questioned you, but this time was different." He tried to explain.

"No, you don't understand..." She pushed him just far enough away so they could look into each other's faces. "I had to do it because it was...it was the last time..." Her voice began to crack and Gwen Tennyson began to do something that Kevin had only ever seen her do once or twice before: She began to weep.

"The last time for what?" He began to rub her shoulders, as if that action might help calm her down. It didn't.

"The last time I join you guys on Plumber business." His eyes widened slightly at her insinuation. Feeling over his head, he continued his actions and softly began to coo to her.

"Hey, don't say that. Don't cry, Gwen, its going to be okay."

"No, it's not. Kevin, I can't stop it. I can't control it. It can use me anytime it wants. Face it, I'm dangerous." She sobbed into the collar of his shirt. The tears hitting his exposed skin seemed to freeze in the night air. He worried about what she might catch if they stayed outside, but when he suggested she get back in the car, she balked.

"Alright. Calm down. You're not dangerous." He whispered into the top of her head. His cheek pressed up against the soft crown of her hair as he searched the faraway horizons for answers. She had a point. Hell, Gwen always had a point. She wasn't stupid.

"Look what I did to you in the warehouse."

"That? That was nothing. I'd like to think I'm tough enough to take on a few wooden crates." He said with a chuckle. She was not as amused. She roughly pushed him away, teetering on her feet as she turned to walk a few paces away. The flame of her ponytail flew behind her in the wind. He reached out to touch it, but the strands pulled just out of his reach.

"I could hurt you. I could hurt Ben. We can't take that chance." She said. Her voice was more under control than it had been before, though he could tell she was still crying. And shivering. Even beneath the large, heavy fabric of his coat, she moved and trembled.

"Enough, Gwen, let's get back in the car." He prepared himself for a battle, for an argument, anything. He steeled himself against her words. If she protested, he was prepared. But she didn't. Shoulders slumped, she allowed him to usher her back into the passenger seat. The hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach grew larger when she wordlessly plunked down onto the cushion and said nothing.

"You know it's true. You know I can't be around when you fight anymore." She said when he had joined her inside. He sighed and rubbed an eye tiredly.

It wasn't just a matter of practicality. He had seen her hurt before, had seen her bleed, limp, and bruise. This, however, was a matter of the mind and mind matters were sometimes much worse than physical ones. He would know; He'd gone crazy a few times himself. Each time, it seemed harder to pull away from the edge, and even harder to crawl back up it. It was a conflict he never wanted her to endure. Yet, here she was. That thing didn't beat her or scratch her, but it invaded her and exhausted her until she had nothing left. It would only get worse if it continued. If it continued, he would lose her.

"I'm not concerned about me or Ben. I'm only worried about you." He bit back the tears stinging the backs of his eyes, the lump growing in his throat. "I know you're scared. I...I am too. But we're not going to give up, alright? I'm not going to let you give up." Reaching over, her pulled her into a tight embrace. Their bodies folded over the center console into each other and they became a meld of cold skin and clothes. His lips found hers in the tangle and he kissed her like he had never kissed her before, not even after he had returned from the brink of insanity and destruction. The situation felt more imperative than it had then. His life was nothing. Hers was everything.

When they broke apart, they were both silently crying and she smiled, wiping away the tear stains on his cheeks.

"Kevin, I don't want to hurt you." She whispered and he almost laughed at the sentiment. How many times had he hurt her? How many times had he made her cry, made her sting? If anything, she should be taking the opportunity for revenge. He shook his head and cupped her face between his palms.

"I can take care of myself. Tin foil hat, remember?" They shared a small laugh before he once more turned serious. He kissed her again. "Whatever happens, I promise that I'll take care of you too. Alright? No matter what happens, you're not going anywhere." She was obviously unsure, and he wasn't positive he'd ever convince her fully, but finally she nodded and burrowed into the crook of his shoulder. Kevin looked up to allow her her space.

He had left the lights on and now he could see small flakes of snow dancing in the beams. He smiled. She had been waiting for snow. Before all of this happened, she spent nights on end checking the weather reports and reminding him how it wouldn't feel like the holidays until a blanket of white covered the ground. Gently, he shook her to get her attention.

"What?" She asked sleepily. She raised her head to look where he was pointing. A smile, a real smile, brightened her face for the first time that day and she let out a soft, excited noise.

"Oh my gosh! It's snowing!" She whispered in awe. She gave him a pleading look. "Please? Can we go outside?" He sighed, letting her think he was mulling it over. Then, with a friendly smirk, he sighed, shrugged, and reached for the door handle.

"Fine, but let me try and be a gentleman for once, alright?" She nodded excitedly. He wasn't about to deny her this, not when it was making her so happy. Already, he could see color returning to her cheeks, the spark returning to her beautiful, green eyes. He got back out and rounded the front of the car to her door. The chill was much more noticeable but he found he didn't mind. The flakes falling were big and fluffy and they stuck to his hair and shirt. By the time he had helped Gwen out, he was covered. She laughed and dusted him off.

"I love this time of year." She said quietly. Her eyes searched the sky, drinking in each flake as it drifted down. He let go of her arms as she walked around and into the headlights. She did a couple of turns, obviously more steady on her feet, and began to laugh. "I love this!" She let loose. Her voice echoed across the tree tops. He could not help but also laugh and join her.

They came together, white as snowmen, and he picked her up beneath her arms and spun her once or twice. She wrapped her arms about his neck and shrieked in his ear. He didn't even care. For the moment, he had his Gwen back. She reeled back once he had stopped and kissed him square on the tip of his hook nose.

"Thank you, Kevin." He smiled, drawing in close until his lips hovered only inches from her own.

"I love you, Gwen." The kiss began gently, but when he set her back upon her own two feet, she pushed up against him hard enough that he nearly stumbled backwards onto the hood. His arms tightened around her, around the coat she was wearing, and he pulled her to him until it seemed they could get no closer. He realized then that they would never be close enough.

A dizzying ringing sound began to emit from her pocket. They jumped apart at the distraction.

"Oh, it's my phone." She said dazedly. "Damn it, it's probably my parents." He released her so she could answer.

"Now, now, let's keeping the swearing to a minimum, shall we?" He teased. She rolled her eyes at him and sharply smacked him in the chest. Kevin just smiled. That was his girl.

The ride home was as quiet as the ride out to the plateau had been, but this silence was tempered with an ease that had not been present before. For now, their world was quiet, at peace, and they both enjoyed the reprieve to the fullest.

Over the center console, their hands met and joined. His larger fingers entwined with her own smaller ones and squeezed. She returned the gesture.

He thought about how the night could have ended, shuddered, then chided himself for doing so. She was sitting right next to him. She was still here. His fingers curled tighter around his own as he imagined what the future might hold for their trio in spite of himself. Would she begin disappearing like that wimpy squire? Would he go to find her one night only to find an empty room and a pair of worried parents? Would he end up facing her on a cliff somewhere?

"Are you still going to go and yell at Ben?" She inquired. He shrugged, coming back to himself from his nightmarish reverie.

"Maybe. Might do it tomorrow." He conceded.

"Don't yell at him too much, okay? He's still my cousin." Her caught her smiling out of the corner of his eye before her head rolled towards the window and she spoke no more. She began to snore again soon after. At the next stop light, he released her hand, gently laying it back over her lap, letting a finger caress the side of her cheek before pulling it back to the wheel.

a/n: Short. Sweet. To the point. 'A Knight to Remember' was pretty much all I needed to break this funk.