Tradewinds

" 'It's choice - not chance - that determines your destiny.' "

The ethics professor's gaze swept over the dazed expressions of his thirty 20-year-old subordinates. Letting out a short sigh, he grabbed the broken meter stick off of his worn wooden desk and smacked it loudly against the chalkboard, smudging the quote scribbled on the green-tinted slate. His lips turned up when he saw the students simultaneously jump in their restrictive desks, faces ranging from lethargy to confusion to outrage.

"Who said that?" He looked at them again, gauging their embarrassed reactions. "Mister McGrath!"

The person in question had been, for the past 53 minutes, quietly jotting down the notes on the chalkboard while simultaneously doodling in his notebook. At the mention of his name, his shaggy auburn-haired head shot up, eyes blinking for a moment before centering on the professor. "Jean Nidetch, Professor Fredericks."

Fredericks raised his eyebrow, surprised that anyone, much less someone from his class, would know such an obscure name. "That is correct, Mister McGrath, though the why of the quote would be more useful."

Cole thought about it for a moment before shrugging. "I'm unsure about that part, Professor. I'd assume that Miss Nidetch was talking about the Weight Watchers program, which she co-founded with…" His mind drew a blank, and his face must have shown it, because Fredericks grunted in smug satisfaction and gave a conceited smile.

"And that, McGrath, is why you should never rely on the Internet for your primary source of information." He turned back towards the chalkboard, and started to lecture again while Cole rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Choice- not chance," he scoffed to himself. "As if. There's always a chance, but not always a choice."

Ω

Cole stared at the RFI, the pulsing core within causing his arms to quiver and tingle. He smiled briefly as he remembered the ethics class and what he had thought of Nidetch's quote before. He had made dozens of choices throughout his life, only to come here, at the edge of something new and terrifying, by a freak chance of fate. Even that was his choice, in a roundabout way, he reflected bitterly. Kessler chose to come back and jump-start his, their destiny by setting off the Ray Sphere near Cole a mere month ago, and destroyed any chance of returning to his time by doing so. So many choices, so many missed opportunities. Was it worth it all? he wondered. Pushing myself to be the savior, pushing the people I cared about away to protect them. What have I gained in the end?

"Do it."

Her voice, soft and full of pain, shattered his trance. Cole tore his gaze away from the RFI to see Lucy waver for a moment. He rushed towards her, steadying her balance while she leaned against a marble post.

She coughed violently for a moment, each breath an agony for them both. Silent drops of ice flowed down her ivory cheeks, and she tried to hold in the sobs, but when Cole pressed her closer to his chest, she shattered.

Cole held on tightly as Lucy's fragile frame was wracked with sobbing. As the agony went on, Cole drifted back to a certain rooftop, five days before, and began to weep.

Ω

Cole eyed Kuo- Lucy, he reminded himself- as she dropped next to him on the rooftop couch. She let out a groan as she tried to get situated on the worn navy-blue leather couch, then, finding a spot, settled down, heaving a great sigh as she did so. "Long day at the office, hon?" he remarked, a smirk coming over his face.

She shot him a half-hearted glare. "Not funny, McGrath."

"Oops, did I do something wrong, sweetheart?" His smirk shifted into a genuine smile, and his eyes twinkled- at least, he thought they did.

Lucy's eyes narrowed, and she began slowly scooting towards him, then, when he thought he was going to be a Cole-sicle at last, simply tapped him on the bare skin of his forearm.

Cole tensed for a moment, expecting a moment of chilled pain, then, when none came, cautiously glanced at his forearm. He was stunned to see no miniscule patch of ice, no small arcs of electricity over the affected area. His mouth agape, Cole shifted his gaze to Lucy, who squirmed under his astonished gaze; he noted the lack of chilled air around her arms, as well as the relatively warmer skin tone. She let out a breath, small bits of snow forming in the air before melting away in the summer heat, and gave a small, shy smile.

"I figured out how to get the excess-" -she shuddered for a moment before continuing- "whatever it is Bertrand put in me. I just need to focus on breathing." She waved away Cole's raised eyebrow. "Seriously! Just take a deep breath, hold it, then release. Of course, it's easier if you have an idea of what you want."

Cole opened his mouth, then shut it. He drew in a breath, then let loose a small chuckle.

Lucy scowled, obviously not pleased with his reaction. "I'm not joking, Cole. Stop that."

Cole, unable to comply, looked away from her as he continued to shake with contained laughter before finally letting loose a great, heaving whoop of ecstatic joy. He shot up, thrusting his arms into the night sky, and shouted, in a voice unbefitting of the savior of New Marais, "THANK YOU, GOD!"

He turned back to Lucy to see her scowl wavering, and the beginnings of a genuine, albeit slightly embarrassed, smile taking shape. Cole grinned at the sight; his heart was pulsing rapidly in his chest, and his soul was as light as a speck of dust.

"Cole!" she admonished quietly, blushing an almost transparent shade of pink. "Not so loud! We don't want the whole town to wake up, now, do we?"

"I don't care," he replied, smile widening. He sat back down quickly, and took Lucy's hands in his own, rubbing over them with his thumbs. They're cool, he marveled. His hands moved to her forearms, repeating the motion, before continuing to rise up to her toned biceps.

Lucy shifted in her seat. "Cole.." she asked haltingly, her voice quivering.

Cole didn't hear her. His hands glided over her shoulders before settling on her face. They stared each other in the eyes for a moment before Cole quietly said, "I love you."

Ω

Lucy pulled back from him, her emotions a whirlwind of opposing forces. She stared at him for a moment before turning to look at her hands. They were back to normal. Strange, she thought. This is normal for me now, isn't it? At the start, I thought it was a curse, but now...

She didn't notice the tears until the small drops of snow froze on her hand. She didn't bother trying to wipe them away, since that would have just frozen the rest.

He loves you, Lucy, she thought to herself in a bittersweet tone. How could he love someone like you? Why would he?

"Lucy." His concerned voice broke through the chartreuse veil of anxiety she had wrapped herself in. She turned her head to face him, and something broke inside her.

Cole, the one person she had always thought steadfast and stoic, was shaking; tears glistened and sparked in his eyes. He opened his mouth, closed it, then put his white-knuckled fist to his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. A choked sob slithered past her ears.

Lucy froze for a moment; in her mind, she began to run through similar scenarios that she'd experienced in the past before realizing that the answer was right in front of her.

Reaching out, she grasped Cole's shoulder, then, without any sort of preamble or warning, pulled him into a tight embrace. Cole sobbed into her shirt, mumbling words of pain and sorrow, sending small shocks through her system and stabbing pain at her heart, but she held on all the tighter. Why? Lucy responded to her self-imposed question. Because I need him. Because he's my better half. Because-

"I love him," she whispered. A tear ran down her face, warm and full of realization. She loved him. Not just because of his actions or the care he had shown her after Bertrand's torture, but because she truly loved him, all of him, inside and out.

Cole's sobbing quieted for a moment, and Lucy's heart seized.

"Cole?!" She looked down for a moment, and saw him staring blankly at the darkening sunset.

"I killed them."

Lucy almost recoiled at the quiet, hollowed, broken tone in Cole's voice. It sounded like the voice of a dying man, or one who had suffered through great tragedy. She kept quiet, however, not wanting to interrupt.

He looked at her then, brilliant electric-blue irises dull. "I killed them all."

"Who?" A stupid rhetorical question, since they both knew who he was referring to.

"Empire City. Wolfe. Amy. Bertrand. Tr-" He looked away. "Trish."

Lucy considered his words, then said, "It's not your fault. It's-"

"Kessler's?" he barked for her. He gave a shallow chuckle. "Well, isn't that great. Millions of deaths and a murder-suicide."

Lucy's brow furrowed. Murder-suicide?

"Yeah," Cole continued, voice bitter. "Turns out the man who killed the woman I loved is an alternate version of me. How fucked up is that, right?"

Lucy's mind tried to comprehend this new piece of information, and as she thought about it, the more it made sense. That's how he was always able to stay one step ahead, she realized. He'd already been through it before.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. She looked at Cole, who was staring at her intently, then at the worn photo in his hand. Taking it, Lucy felt her heart drop as her hand tightened on the paper. It was a photo of Cole and Trish, both in wedding clothes, with Zeke in the background. Cole's head was resting on Trish's cheek as she smiled at the camera, and her expression- Lucy's chest tightened at the look of pure joy on the brunette's face.

"I-"

"That was Kessler, Lucy. That-" Cole gritted his teeth. "That's what he took from me."

Silence for a beat, then- "I don't know what to say."

"No need." Cole let out a heavy breath; resting his chin on his steepled fingers, he gazed out at the park flooded with electric light that stretched out before the two of them. His next words were slow and contemplative, showing the weight of his burden and the wisdom he had obtained in such a short time: "I lost everything because of myself, but looking back now, I didn't really lose anything at all. If anything, Kessler gave me more than he ever had: a chance to use my powers to improve my city, something to fight for-" He broke off and looked at Lucy, the wedding photo on the battered coffee table in front of the couch forgotten. "A second chance."

"But-" Lucy tried to come up with a valid objection, despite the pounding in her chest. "Why me?"

"I don't know, Lucy. Call it God, call it fate, but something's brought us together, and I'd be an idiot to let the chance pass us by."

Lucy opened her mouth again; she let out a small sound of surprise as Cole pressed his lips to hers. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the small gesture, and brought her right hand up to his cheek. She felt him flinch as the sub-zero temperatures burned him, and drew back- or tried to, at least. Instead, Cole cupped the back of her head with one hand, holding her hand with the other, and pulled her back into the kiss.

After a few moments of futile resistance, Lucy returned the gesture, then drew back. Licking her lips, she stared at Cole for a moment, mind settling on a course of action, then softly responded, "I love you, too."

As night fell over Vllla Cochon, storm clouds rolled in from the east, flashing icy lightning and light snow.

Ω

After a brief eternity, Lucy's body stopped shaking, though she still sobbed quietly.

"It's okay," Cole whispered to her, a hollow reassurance. Nothing was okay. Time was gone away from them, leaving the two with only a single night united in soul and body and dozens of missed chances past.

"It's not okay," Lucy gasped, voice choked from smoke and emotion. "You made the right choice." She shot a glance at John's catatonic form, bowed at the knees, before looking away in shame. "Hell, Nix even made the right choice."

A heartbeat. "I was-"

A breath. "I am scared."

She looked up at Cole, searching his eyes for a glimmer of hope.

"I am, too."

Lucy gave a shuddering sigh, looking down at their intertwined hands, then simply said, "Do it."

Cole tightened his grip.

She looked up once more, then hesitantly leaned forward and kissed him, loose arm resting on his light grey T-shirt.

Cole looped his free arm around her waist and pulled her close, deepening the kiss and responding with all the grief and love he had. Sparking tears hissed on Lucy's cheek as the moment lengthened, silent apologies and confessions flowing through the paths the drops carved as she was filled with the sense of him. They were one and the same, made whole in a single, glorious, terrible instant.

"Do it," she repeated against his lips.

Cole drew back, looking into her terrified eyes. The fear softened as they gazed at each other for a few seconds.

Cole started walking back to his original position in front of John, his grip on Lucy's hand slipping away as his resolve hardened. Withdrawing the RFI, he gripped both handles firmly, breaths shallow and terrified.

He dared a glance back at Lucy; she gave a small nod, eyes shining.

Cole smiled, a slight upturn of the lips.

Looking away, he closed his eyes, savoring the scent of sea salt, of oil, metal, and electricity one last time.

A final thought, unbidden, came to his mind: Winds in the east, mist coming in. Like somethin' is brewin' and 'bout to begin. Can't put me finger on what lies in store, But I fear what's to happen all happened before.

Opening his eyes, Cole drew in on himself, pouring everything into the machine in his hands, then simply… let go.

Author's Note: So, I started this one-shot about 8 months ago; as such, I forgot precisely why I named it Tradewinds. Of course, easterly winds are called "tradewinds", so that, along with Bert's quote from Mary Poppins, is probably why I called it that.

Hope you guys had a good Christmas! See you later.

-Nate