The sounds and scents of Vallo were similar yet very different than those back in Hell's Kitchen. It would be an adjustment for Matt but he would adapt. He always did. Stick had trained him well on how to adapt to his surroundings.
Matt crossed the rooftop and moved closer to her. She hadn't made any noise but he knew exactly where she was located, perched on top of the edge. He couldn't believe that she was here. He was positive that she had died and had resigned himself to feeling that loss and the fact that he had failed her by not being able to save her twice now.
Ever since that fateful night on the rooftop, all Matt had wanted was to be able to leave with her. Sure, he'd would struggle with leaving the crusade to save Hell's Kitchen behind but he would have done it, for her. He had tried to move on but there was always something holding him back from being truly happy. How could he be? He first and only true love had died and when a piece of Matthew had died with her.
He moved closer to her. He didn't smell any blood and her heartbeat was steady. As far as he could tell, she was perfectly healthy. He reached out, touching the side of her face. "It's you. How is this even possible?"