Chapter 13

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Sometimes, I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear
And I can't help but ask myself how much I'll let the fear
Take the wheel and steer
It's driven me before
And it seems to have a vague, haunting mass appeal
But lately I am beginning to find
That I should be the one behind the wheel

"Don, open up I need your help." Wally was careful not to talk too loudly from behind the door.

Even though it was low, the voice startled Don, who was climbing into his apartment from his rear window. He carefully pulled his injured leg over the window's stool and placed it gently down on the floor.

"Uh, hold on a second." Glancing down at his clothes, he started to panic. His Dove costume, which now adorned his body, was covered in dirt and a little blood. To transform out of it, he needed to calm his nerves. The suit responded to his body and he knew the stress he felt at the moment would only serve to keep him in costume. So, the only other logical thing to do was to run to his room and throw some clothes over the costume. With that done, he started to calm down. He looked in the mirror and watched his mask magically fade away.

Satisfied his appearance wouldn't rouse any suspicion, he went to the front door and opened it for Wally. The man stormed in the house, obviously bothered by something.

"Wally sit down, will you? Your making me nervous." Don took the lead and sat on his couch.

As Wally sat down next to him, he took a moment to take a good look at the man who was sitting next to him. This was not the Don he knew. He had lost a significant amount of weight, and he looked like he hadn't slept in months. Along with that, he had a few bruises on his cheeks.

"Don are you ok?"

"Yeah I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"You just look... have you been sleeping ok?"

Don shook his head. "No." He answered honestly. "I haven't slept well since..." He glanced down at his leg.

Wally understood. "That's why I came. Preston doesn't sleep well either. Almost every night she has a nightmare about Africa or something worse. I know because I am in most of them."

"Her telepathy?"

"So you know?"

"Yes. She told me a few weeks ago, after she realized she shared a few telepathic experiences with you."

"Don, I know you are close with her. Probably closer then she and I will ever be." A hint of sadness could be heard in his words. "You both shared an experience that I, I can never understand, as much as I would like to. I will do anything to help her and I know she trusts you. And because she trusts you, so do I. I'm worried about her. She sneaks out every night. I don't know where she is going. I was tempted to follow her, but I know she has a lot to work out and I can't bring myself to get in the way of that."

Don tried to look surprised at the information Wally had told him. The truth was, he knew all of this. Three weeks ago, Preston had come to visit him. That was right after he had hit rock bottom emotionally. She had come at the perfect time. Admitting what he had done to Doctor Strange was one of the hardest things he had to do, but she needed to know. It involved her after all. The regret he felt regarding her had drove him to do it. Shock hadn't even registered on her face as he had told her. And Don knew she was shocked, he sensed it. Instead she offered to help him pick up the pieces of his shattered life and move on. But both knew the guilt weighed heavily on him.

After that night, she had come over many times. Now that his feelings weren't overwhelming him, he could clearly sense hers. She felt useless in her current state. Don was not a stranger to the hopelessness and guilt that weighed on Preston's mind. Those were the emotions he refused to give up. They lingered and burned into his soul.

After realizing she needed a release for her emotions, Don decided it was now his turn to help her. Help her the way she had helped him, in a way he never was able to in Africa.

They started small. At first, they would sit and wait in a car and listen to a police scanner, anxious to hear of a bank robbery or shooting that they could stop. The first few fights were hard. Both were out of practice. Wally had been training her, but not as often as she would have liked or needed. She had felt sluggish and made a lot of mistakes.

Dove was still trying to manage with the limited use of his leg. Flying was essential now if he was going to be fighting crime. It wasn't one of the abilities he had relied on before. Getting use to it was taking more time then he would have liked. Thankfully he still had his enhanced senses that allowed him to perceive things before they happened. That made it easier for him to dodge bullets, flip over moving vehicles and avoid punches.

After the first week, they started getting into a nice rhythm. But that meant they were both willing and able to deal with bigger crimes. And they savored it. Both Preston and Dove fought offensively, neither caring how much they got injured, but each looking out for the welfare of the other. While most of the criminals they dealt with recognized Dove, Preston was the unknown vigilante who wore a red hoodie and a green mask.

Don knew that Preston had not told anyone they had been back to crime fighting. There was an unspoken knowledge that no one would understand what they were doing. But as Wally sat beside him now, he felt bad for not letting him know where Preston had been spending her nights. He pushed the feeling aside as he answered. "She has been here a few times, just to talk."

"Has she mentioned she's missed her last three injections?"

That news startled Don. He had assumed she was regularly getting them because she seemed to have enough energy and stamina to keep fighting crime every night. It dawned on him that lately she wasn't as talkative with him, in his mind or in person. Since they started working together every night, she had formed a telepathic link with Don. It wasn't perfect, and sometimes it was very unstable, but it worked. Usually he could sense with his abilities and the added telepathic link, what Preston was feeling. But he hadn't been able to read her the last few nights. Maybe that was why, she was hiding this from him.

"I hadn't realized." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I can talk to her about it."

Wally nodded gratefully. "Thank you. I'm so glad that she has you." He let out a sigh of dejection. "I honestly don't know what to do. I feel like nothing I have done is enough. Every time I'm in her dreams, I can feel her guilt. It's so thick that sometimes I feel like I can't breathe. Then I have to remind myself it's only a dream. I don't want to push her to talk or do anything else she doesn't want to do, but I am so worried. She is carrying around so much on her shoulders and she seems unwilling to let it go." He started to pace around the small living room, running his hands through his spikey red hair. "I wish she could see herself like we all see her. The way I see her."

Don let himself smile at Wally's last comment. His words could be interpreted several ways, but the love and concern that radiated from the speedster could not. He had long suspected that Wally returned the feelings that Preston had for him. It warmed his heart that through everything the feelings they had for each other remained. And have even gotten stronger.

Don wasn't sure what to tell Wally. He could only think of one thing. "Wally, I made a promise to myself that I would never again let anything happen to Preston. And I intend to keep that promise no matter what."

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