[attr="class","angelow"]

“Now why would I do that?” Noticing her subtle shift, Angelo tilts his head down to accept the brief forehead touch. Blue eyes droop shut and a shoulder-loosening exhale slowly brushes past his lips, lulled by Skyler’s wordless comfort. [break][break]

“We both know I’m the thing you’d hit the most.” [break][break]

Although his gaze diverts from the image of their golden days spent blessed beneath sunshine and palm trees, his mind lingers on silver eyes framed by wrinkles, still sparkling with mischief and fire. [break][break]

To stretch the moments shared until they’re both slow and grey, contently weathered by traversing time’s long road together. He doesn’t think he’d ever not be greedy for more.[break][break]

For a moment, Angelo relishes in the familiar feel of her calloused thumb caressing the back of his hand, until their silence is broken by two questions. Each about as bewildered as the last. “What’re you talking about?” [break][break]

He wouldn’t get an answer, however. Not when the scent of maelstrom and blood washes over him, their next possibility rushing over with all the unrelenting cruelty of a winter storm. Numbingly cold. Lifelessness illuminated in a flash of lightning. [break][break]

Angelo only gets a moment to see the scene but even in all of its bloodied, dark hopelessness, it doesn’t spark a reaction in him as fierce as the look on Skyler’s face when she frantically tries to banish the image away. [break][break]

“Hey, Sky. Baby. Look at me.” Despite lunging after her with fierce purpose, his touch on her cheek is far gentler. Even when tugging Skyler’s chin his way, determined to pull her attention towards the present. Towards him. “It’s not real. I'm right here. Always will be, alright?” [break][break]

Attentively, his thumb brushes her cheekbone as uncontrollable vows he intends to honour are made, watching the play of emotions brewing in storm cloud eyes and willing it to move along. Just as they should be... [break][break]

“Let’s go. We’ve got an exit to find.” Fingers enclose around Skyler’s hand, squeezing with the same firm resolve as his voice. Encouraging her to join him as he stands. [break][break]

It’s as Angelo gets to his feet however, that colour blooms vibrant behind him. Another window of possibility drawing back the curtains to reveal their next performance. [break][break]

Verdant violently sways, fronds of lush jungle foliage dancing as figures race through the labyrinth of green. Blades of wild wind slash through the labyrinth of tree trunks, water threatening to tear them from their roots. [break][break]

And in the corner of his gaze, a familiar smirk flashes nearly as bright – triumphant – as the gold that sparkles in his grip…

[attr="class","angelow"]

Angelo’s fingertips, solid and warm and real, have enough time to give Skyler’s hand a brief squeeze before the next vision ensnares their attention away. Reassurance resonating through a singular, simple gesture of a calloused thumb rasping over sun kissed skin – that they’re in it together. Always. [break][break]

“No idea,” he admits, a flash of boundless cerulean peering at his beloved over his shoulder. “But we’ll find it.” [break][break]

It’s what they did, after all. What they’d always done. Always will, he’s sure. [break][break]

This was just another adventure in their logbook of wild tales and perilous escapades. [break][break]

All the while they become transfixed by an adventure that had never been.[break][break]

“Come on, Dross!” Says the version of him on the beach, finding the breath to toss petty taunts over his shoulder even with sweat trickling down his neck. “Not getting tired already, are ya?” [break][break]

While she looks like she’s ready to burn his lineage to the ground, exertion does not make the triumph that spreads across his features fade. Cerulean eyes are as consuming as the ocean, devouring whatever pebbles and seashells lay within its wake. [break][break]

A slightly different flavour from Angelo’s own… [break][break]

Apparent in how when vision-Angelo takes a leap to grasp hold of a Salamence’s neck, his draconic beast taking his feet off the ground in a storm of sand. The stolen flash of gold is tossed and snatched out of the air in a scratched hand. Arrogant as sin. They spark to life at Skyler’s fury, her desperation nothing but fuel.[break][break]

“You’re not going to kick my ass from all the way back there, Dross!” [break][break]

The real Angelo raises a brow, peering at his Skyler out of the corner of his gaze. “How'd you feel about going on an expedition together when we get back?” [break][break]

He hides a smile, poorly.

[attr="class","angelow"]

The finale of the clash between they alternate selves is a muffled blur, their electric tension lost as Angelo’s attention focuses on the Skyler Dross he loves. [break][break]

Even now, after hearing those tones countless times before, he’s helpless to not lean into the flirtatious curl of her tongue. Pulled in by the burning of her gaze, lingering on his lips. “Anyone tell you you're a saint of generosity, mia amata?” [break][break]

Everything else, even an alternative dimension filled with twisted visions and droves of Unown eyes looming, is inconsequential.[break][break]

“Can't say I haven't been tempted once or twice. You're not an elegant snorer.” [break][break]

They carry on through the mist after that, bypassing snippets of images that fail to ensnare their attention like the previous. Slithers of realities slipping beneath their radar, at least, until she’s suddenly dragging him down… [break][break]

“Damnit, Sky. You trying to rip my arm out of my shoulder?” His voice tumbles out in a hiss as she forcibly leads him towards the ground, but there’s little irritation to be found there, not when his focus is mainly captured by the voice beyond the mist. [break][break]

Mommy! Daddy! echoes in his ears, rippling down into his chest. It’s not an uncomfortable feeling, he finds. But unlike the image of their older figures, longing does not manifest. [break][break]

“C’mon. Let's take a look.” Angelo chuckles quietly, only partially motivated by her apparent repulsion. Curiosity primarily guides the pilot to rise to one knee, peering over the edge of the window so he can catch a glimpse of the scene. [break][break]

At first glance, Angelo can’t tell whether the child is a daughter or a son but the child is, without a doubt, definitely theirs.[break][break]

From the way storm grey eyes are focused on the task ahead, charging unconcerned through the apartment with their fist clutched around a grumbling Dorado’s paw and a band aid sits on their nose with tiny Ducklett print. [break][break]

How their hair is a wild mane of chocolate brown like a bird’s nest, curly and probably scarcely seen the tooth of a comb. [break][break]

Angelo can’t help but scoff in amusement under his breath as the footfalls make an impressive thundering as they burst through the apartment, on a mission. Even more so when an older, greyer Dorado looks less than pleased, being dragged around by the spawn of his beloved Captain.[break][break]

Look wha’ me an’ Dory found on the deck! [break][break]

In their hand is a broken Corsola horn, pink and blue. Nothing particularly special if you take walks down the beach often. And yet they hold it up high for inspection, bouncing on the tip of their toes as they pass it over to a version of them who’s backs are turned to the window. [break][break]

Is it tweasuwe? Is it?! They ask, toothy grin beaming and proud. [break][break]

“What’s the matter, sunshine? It's not like it's us us, right? You're safe.” He asks, glancing towards his wife with a lopsided smile.

[attr="class","angelow"]

“What big discovery have you found, my Stellina?” Vision-Angelo asks his child, crouching down to inspect the shard of Corsola horn that’s placed onto his scarred, outstretched palm.[break][break]

Carefully, he turns it over in his fingers and points to the tiny branches of colourful coral with embellished tales of worth. All eagerly consumed beneath innocent, enraptured grey eyes. [break][break]

Their child isn’t the only one absorbed. [break][break]

For a long time, Angelo had been certain that children of his own was not meant for him, no matter the path that he walked. Not for a lack of dislike, mind you. It was a personal choice crafted from many years playing caretaker – or second father, some could argue – for his siblings. [break][break]

Now that he forged his own way, going back to a world of tethers and bonds was none to appealing… [break][break]

So… If this is weally, weally special I can go on the next a’ventuwe with you!? Wight?! [break][break]

Even if the fragment of this potential future has him squeezing Skyler’s hand just as tightly in return, an anchor when a part of himself wavers soft. [break][break]

“Hm?” His gaze flickers towards his beloved as she draws his attention away, catching molten silver eyes lingering on his face with familiar appreciation. Of its own volition a lopsided grin materialises, chest warm. [break][break]

“Yeah?” An arm winds behind her, fingertips lightly slipping into a golden mane of curls as he guides the captain’s head into a slight tilt towards him. The scratchy surface of his cheek brushes her skin, sharp in contrast to the kiss and whisper hushed against her temple. “Maybe I could be convinced to grow it out… If you ‘make it worth my while’.” [break][break]

When Angelo peers back to the scene, it’s already dissolving like paint dipped into a cup of water, bleeding into a different spectrum of colours and shapes. Transporting them to a familiar stretch of beach. [break][break]

There’s nothing particularly abnormal about the next tease of a life that did not quite belong to them, just a mother teaching their child how to swim in the ocean. [break][break]

And yet it’s not exactly mundane either, is it? Because it’s Skyler and it's their child.[break][break]

Skyler, older with sharpened features and fierce battle scars, uttering sweet terms of endearment to their kid in attire so obviously chosen by them. (He could see her picking out that Lapras inflatable ring and himself the swimsuit.) She's ever beautiful, unfairly alluring, even in this world that takes them out of their normality. [break][break]

Real Angelo is already laughing at the sight of her and his kid being nearly swept away by the stray wave. But it’s the swear word that rips, foul and so full of emotion, from such a small child that has him howling with fingers clutching onto his wife’s arm to keep himself standing. [break][break]

“O-Oh fuck… We'd make shit parents.” He doesn't sound repentant about it in the slightest.[break][break]

That’s when the Unown find them, their approach silent. Although they probably wouldn’t have been heard over the roars of laughter, anyway. They float around Angelo and Skyler’s doubled over forms in a dance that sees them drifting close then out again, encouraging them to follow. [break][break]

“Ready to go, babe?” Angelo asks her, taking in a breath to ease his laughter. A smile still remains on his face when he reaches out to brush the cheek where a scar may or may not tear in the days to come, lips finding hers in a kiss that's unashamedly loving. [break][break]

Maybe they’d meet 'Lil Ducklett' in the future. Maybe not. But for now, they had their own path to find – to create. [break][break]

As long as they were with Skyler, then it would be a happy one.