Page 7 of Hollow State

Wynn tipped her head back and studied Darwin’s face. The overhead lights reflected off his glasses, hiding his eyes until she reached up and removed them. She folded the frames in one hand, then cupped his cheek with the other.

She could see the raw edges of his mind when she stared into his dark eyes. He tried to hide his emotions, but they were always right at the surface. He carried the weight of the bunker on his shoulders because he honestly believed he was responsible for everything that had gone wrong. That what he’d created had led them to this place in time. “Stopping Emma brought us another step closer to taking Finch down.”

“It doesn’t seem that way.”

She reached behind her and slid his glasses onto the counter. “Some days, it seems as if we cut off one arm only to discover Finch has grown three more. But Emma’s dead, and her operation has been destroyed. She can’t experiment on anyone else. We have her hard drives, what's left of the perverted versions of your compound, and more information than we had when we dove into ORACLE.”

“None of it connects her directly to Hyperion.”

“I need you to look at all that we do have and stop focusing on what we don't.” She ran her fingers through his thick, dark hair. Soft and silky, it touched the back of his collar.

"It's not that easy." Darwin’s arms tightened around her waist. “You make it sound simple—hopeful—but there’s a heaviness in my chest. When I lie down at night, I can't breathe.”

“I know." She pressed her hand over his heart. “Everyone keeps trying to tell you that you don't carry any of this alone. We're all in this together. Eventually, we’ll find the thread that unravels everything Finch has put together.”

“I wish I could believe that the way you do.”

“If I didn't, I'd go crazy.”

“Maybe.” He ran his thumb over her lower lip. “But there's a difference between telling yourself that and actually believing it. You fall in the latter category."

He was right. She absolutely did. But not because she had blinders on. Wynn, at her core, was a realist. She looked at all angles. Made decisions based on facts, not feelings. But Wynn also believed in Neve’s determination, Coulter’s instincts, Scout’s ability to find what other people missed, and Zadie’s refusal to let a locked system remain locked. She knew Gideon understood everyone's technology better than those who’d created it. Most of all, she trusted Darwin, even when he didn't put that same faith in himself.

She saw him every day in the medical bay. Watched him stretch equipment beyond its intended limits whenever someone needed an answer. Saw him sit beside Kane long after everyone else had gone to bed, tracking every twitch and change in sensation. Saw him read the same lab result until his eyes reddened. Accepting good news came harder than preparing for the worst.

He carried the entire team as if every one of them had become his personal responsibility.

She admired his dedication to medicine. To research. To humanity. He was kind. Generous with his time and resources. Even more so with his heart. He believed that he'd never given enough of it to his ex-wife, Sarah. But Wynn doubted that was the total sum of why they’d divorced. What she did suspect was that Darwin hadn't been able to give enough time to his wife. Even down here, he lacked that ability as he tried to split his focus among everyone. It was an impossible task, though he tried, and she loved that about him.

Somewhere along the way, she'd given him her heart, and that knowledge no longer frightened her as much as it should have.

“We’re going to stop Finch,” she said. “And we'll clear your name.”

Darwin searched her face. “And you?”

“What about me?” The question didn't catch her off guard. It never did. Darwin always put others first. This was due to his overdeveloped sense of responsibility, and it was easier for him to deal with others than himself. It was the way he'd asked the question—the shift in tone—that stood out to her.

“What do you get when this ends?”

"The same as everyone else."

"That's the standard answer," he said. "I want to know what you want."

The future she pictured no longer resembled the one she’d lost. She wasn't sure how to explain it since he stood in the center of the life she hoped for. “I get the satisfaction of knowing we finished what we started,” she said. “And maybe a room with a window.”

“Ambitious.”

“I might even demand sunlight.”

He smiled. “Now, you’re being unreasonable.”

“There he is.” She ran her fingers through the hair at his temple. “I was wondering where you’d gone.”

“You’re intoxicatingly hopeful." He took her hand and kissed her wrist.

“I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”

“It is.” He lowered her hand but didn’t release it. “There’s no way I could survive this if you weren’t standing beside me.”