They moved.
Fast.
Efficient.
No one spoke.
Not because they didn't have anything to say—
But because they had too much.
The forest blurred past them as they put distance between themselves and him.
But the real distance?
Wasn't behind them.
It was right there.
Between them.
Nancy walked ahead.
Not far.
Just enough.
Just enough that no one could touch her without trying.
And that was intentional.
Kai noticed first.
Of course he did.
His steps slowed slightly, watching her back.
"She's doing it again," Leo muttered under his breath.
"I know," Kai replied quietly.
Evan didn't say anything.
But his gaze stayed locked on Nancy.
Observing.
Thinking.
Always thinking.
Nancy felt it.
Every glance.
Every shift in their emotions.
And now—
She couldn't ignore it.
That new awareness?
It made everything louder.
Clearer.
Painfully obvious.
Concern.
Tension.
Fear—
No.
Not fear.
She corrected herself quickly.
Just… caution.
Right?
Her chest tightened.
"Stop walking ahead."
Kai's voice.
Closer than she expected.
Nancy paused.
Just for a second.
Then turned slightly.
Not fully.
Not enough.
"I'm not that far," she said.
"You are," he replied.
Simple.
Firm.
Too honest.
Silence stretched between them.
Then—
She took another step back.
Creating space.
Deliberately.
Kai's jaw tightened.
"Nancy—"
"I'm fine," she cut in quickly.
Too quickly.
Leo sighed quietly behind them. "You're doing that thing again."
"What thing?" she snapped.
That edge in her voice?
It wasn't there before.
And they all heard it.
Leo didn't react emotionally.
He just looked at her.
Straight.
Clear.
"You're pushing us away."
Nancy froze.
Just for a second.
Then shook her head.
"No, I'm not."
"You are," Evan said calmly.
Of course he'd say it like that.
Like it was just a fact.
Not something that hurt.
Nancy let out a breath.
Slow.
Controlled.
"I just need space."
Kai stepped closer.
Not aggressively.
Not forcefully.
Just enough.
"You've got it," he said.
A pause.
"But this isn't just space."
Nancy looked at him now.
Really looked.
And that almost made her step back again.
Because his eyes—
They weren't scared.
They weren't distant.
They were steady.
And that made this harder.
"You think I didn't notice?" she asked quietly.
Kai frowned slightly. "Notice what?"
"That you hesitated."
Silence.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
"When I asked if I'm still me," she continued, her voice softer now—but sharper somehow.
"You paused."
Leo looked away slightly.
Evan didn't.
Kai didn't either.
But he didn't deny it.
Nancy swallowed hard.
"That was enough."
The words landed harder than she intended.
But she didn't take them back.
Kai exhaled slowly.
"That wasn't what you think."
"It doesn't matter what it was," she said.
Her arms crossed slightly—defensive now.
"It was there."
And she felt it.
That moment of doubt.
That tiny shift.
And now?
She couldn't unfeel it.
"I hurt all of you," she added, quieter now.
Her voice losing its edge.
"I could've made it worse."
"You didn't," Leo said.
"But I could have."
That was the problem.
Not what happened.
What could happen.
Evan stepped forward slightly.
"You're not dangerous because of what you are," he said.
Nancy gave a small, humorless laugh.
"That's exactly why I'm dangerous."
Silence again.
But this time—
It was heavier.
Nancy stepped back.
One step.
Then another.
"I don't know how to control this yet."
Kai's expression tightened. "We'll figure it out."
"No," she said, shaking her head.
"You don't get it."
Her voice cracked slightly.
"If I lose control again—"
She stopped.
Because they all knew how that sentence ended.
"I won't let that happen," Kai said.
Immediate.
Certain.
Nancy looked at him.
And for a second—
She wanted to believe him.
She really did.
But then—
That memory hit again.
The power.
The force.
The way it exploded out of her without warning.
And the way it felt…
Good.
That part scared her the most.
"You can't promise that," she said softly.
Kai didn't answer.
Because he couldn't.
Nancy took another step back.
Putting real distance between them now.
"I need to learn this on my own."
Leo's head snapped toward her. "That's a bad idea."
"Maybe," she admitted.
"But staying close to you right now?"
Her voice dropped.
"That's worse."
That one hit.
Hard.
Kai's expression shifted.
Not anger.
Not frustration.
Something quieter.
More dangerous.
"…You think we'd choose our safety over you?"
Nancy's chest tightened.
"That's not what I said."
"It's what you meant."
She hesitated.
And that hesitation?
Answered everything.
"I just—" she started, then stopped.
Because how do you explain this?
How do you explain being afraid of yourself?
Of hurting the only people keeping you grounded?
Evan spoke instead.
"You're isolating to maintain control."
Nancy blinked slightly.
"…Yes."
"Short-term solution," he continued.
"Long-term problem."
Leo nodded. "You spiral alone—we don't see it coming next time."
Nancy looked between them.
Then shook her head.
"I won't spiral."
Kai let out a quiet breath.
"You said that last time."
That stung.
Because it was true.
Nancy's throat tightened.
"I need to try."
Her voice was smaller now.
But firm.
"I can't keep depending on you to hold me together."
Kai stepped forward again.
Closing the distance she created.
Not all of it.
But enough.
"You're not depending on us."
Nancy looked up at him.
"Yes, I am."
A pause.
Then, softer—
"And that's the problem."
That one?
That one hurt all of them.
The bond pulsed faintly between them.
Not broken.
Not weak.
Just…
Strained.
Nancy stepped back one last time.
"I'm not leaving," she added quickly.
"I'm just… not staying close."
Leo ran a hand through his hair. "That's basically the same thing."
"It's not," she said.
But it felt like it was.
Kai didn't argue again.
Didn't push.
Didn't reach for her.
And somehow—
That hurt more than if he did.
"…Fine," he said finally.
One word.
Carefully controlled.
Too controlled.
Nancy nodded slightly.
Then turned.
And walked ahead again.
This time—
Farther.
Behind her—
They didn't follow immediately.
Not like before.
Not close.
Not steady.
Just…
There.
At a distance.
And for the first time since this started—
Nancy felt it.
Not just fear.
Not just power.
But something else.
Something quieter.
Something colder.
Loneliness.