Everneath

Heroes are made by the paths they choose, not the powers they are graced with.

Remembering is easy. It's forgetting that's hard.

If you're gonna leave, I wish you'd just leave. Why do you keep coming back if you're not going to stay? Because even when you're gone, you're never really gone... I won't get over it if you keep coming back. Losing you once was hard enough. And now you're here again and everything's coming back. I'm going to get screwed. And I can't do it again.

Heroes don't exist. And if they did, I wouldn't be one of them.

He leaned forward and said, "Tell me, friend. Is there more for us?" I looked down at my feet. "There's everything for us.

Tell me why you care," I said. He put his hands on the windowsill. "Because it's you. Despite what you think of me, your pain will always be my pain.

I dreamed of you every night. It felt so real. And when I'd wake up the next morning, it was like your disappearance was fresh. Like you'd left me all over again.

Stay with me, Becks. Dream of me. I am ever yours.

Say something Becks. Say anything" "You," I said. "I remember you." I kept my eyes shut, and felt his hands drop. He didn't move back. "What do you remember about me?" There was strong emotion behind his voice. Something he fought to control. With my eyes closed, I could easily picture the other side of the century. "I remember the way your hand could cover my entire shoulder. The way your lower lip stuck out when you were working out a problem in your head. And how you flick your ring finger with your thumb when you get impatient." I opened my eyes, and the words no longer got stuck in my throat on their way out. They flowed. "And when something surprises you and you don't know what to say, you get a tiny wrinkle in between your eyebrows." I reached up to touch the divot, then hesitated and lowered my hand. "It showed on the day the coach told you you'd made first-string quarterback. And it's showing now." For a moment the space between us held no tension, no questions, no accusations. Finally he leaned back, a stunned expression on his face. "Where do we go from here?" "Nowhere, really," I whispered. "It doesn't change anything.

Too much math and science isn't nourishing to the soul.

I didnt tell him I'd thought of him every day. That even when every other memory had faded, he never left. - Nikki

If you stand off to the side, all mopey and such, without a date, you’ll stick out like a nun at a strip club.

Who loses hope first? And who never gives up? Because it’s not the supernatural abilities that set mythical characters apart. It’s the decisions the human characters make, in impossible situations, that have us still talking about them centuries later. Heroes are made by the paths they choose, not the powers they are graced with.

I was in the neighborhood," he said, answering the question I was about to ask. His lips twitched. "You know, wandering around, trying to be a hero.

Sometimes, when something hurts us, our hearts break a little-in a slightly ... more literal way than for humans. Our pain sort of spills out and onto anyone around us. We call it a cracked heart.

Look, Nik, I know you don't like public scrutiny lately. If you stand off to the side, all mopey and such, without a date, you'll stick out like a nun at a strip club." He leaned in. "Trust me, I've seen one. A nun at a strip club, that is. Everyone was staring at her.

You say you hate me, yet, you use me to stop hurting.

We’d both been stripped of all the evasiveness, all the lies, everything we’d ever kept from each other. Layer by layer, we had given up our defenses and our excuses and our demands for whys and hows, and what was left were two broken beings. Clinging to one last shred of hope. Tethered to each other.

How are you so good at reading me when you can't read anyone else around you?" He sighed, and as he climbed out the window, he said, "I love it.

Say something Becks. Say anything" "You," I said. "I remember you." I kept my eyes shut, and felt his hands drop. He didn't move back. "What do you remember about me?" There was strong emotion behind his voice. Something he fought to control. With my eyes closed, I could easily picture the other side of the century. "I remember the way your hand could cover my entire shoulder. The way your lower lip stuck out when you were working out a problem in your head. And how you flick your ring finger with your thumb when you get impatient." I opened my eyes, and the words no longer got stuck in my throat on their way out. They flowed. "And when something surprises you and you don't know what to say, you get a tiny wrinkle in between your eyebrows." I reached up to touch the divot, then hesitated and lowered my hand. "It showed on the day the coach told you you'd made first-string quarterback. And it's showing now." For a moment the space between us held no tension, no questions, no accusations. Finally he leaned back, a stunned expression on his face. "Where do we go from here?" "Nowhere, really," I whispered. "It doesn't change anything." Eyebrows still drawn together, he said, "We'll see." Then he turned and left. I tucked this moment away. In the dark, dank world of the Tunnels, I would call upon this memory. And there would be a flicker of candlelight. If only for a moment.

There is no evil. There is no good. There is only life, and the absence of life.

In the dark, dank world of the Tunnels, I would call upon this memory. And there would be a flicker of candlelight. If only for a moment. I closed my eyes, as if my eyelids were the levers of a printing press, etching the fibers into my mind. Memories were outside Cole’s reach. As long as I held them, memories were mine and mine alone.

Nik. All you need to do is wear this tonight, and we'll sell out." I glanced down at the shirt and then back up at Cole. "Yeah, I'm sure this is the look you were going for." "You can make anything look good," he said softly.

Tell me, friend. Is there more for us?" I looked into his eyes, "There is everything for us.

Sometimes...." He paused and squeezed his eyes shut. " Sometimes our hearts.... crack a little." -Jack

I love you, Becks. I’ve never felt like this.” I nodded against him, still unsure if I could believe him. I thought about Lacey and the way she was standing next to him. “You’ve never been in love?” He let out a quiet breath, and I felt him shake his head. “Easy to say. Harder to feel.

He was at once severe and beautiful, and the more the played, the more I felt surrounded by that cushion as well, as if I could fall and never hit the ground, as long as he was playing.