Chapter Text
The apartment was silent after the portal closed.
Connor stood by the door for a long moment, hand still on the frame, listening to the silence settle back over the apartment. The hum of the portal was gone. Real time had returned.
He turned slowly. The place looked as though a battle had passed through it: bandages discarded on the table, a chair pushed out of place, blankets in a heap at the foot of the bed. The air still smelled faintly of broth and medicine.
He moved without thinking, just enough to keep his hands busy—folding the blanket, gathering the bandages, rinsing the empty cup in the sink. The ordinary rhythm helped steady him. It wasn’t mourning. It was maintenance, the only thing left to do when the fight had moved elsewhere.
Sass appeared without ceremony, gliding down from the curtain rod to the edge of the table. He didn’t speak. Neither did Connor.
“You’re not watching the future,” Sass said at last.
Connor turned the rinsed cup in his hands, water dripping into the sink. “There’s nothing useful in it right now.”
“Maybe this is time to remember the past,” Sass said gently.
Connor gave a short, dry laugh. “I remember it. Doesn’t mean I want to look at it.”
“Most people look forward because it hurts less. But sometimes, the only way to make sense of the road ahead is to face the one behind you.”
Connor stayed quiet.
He crossed to the far end of the room, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Outside, Paris had shifted into night. The curtains glowed faintly with the city lights beyond—neon and streetlamps, headlights slipping like restless stars. Shadows stretched long across the floor.
He stared at them like they might answer him.
After a moment, he nodded once.
“All right,” he said.
He couldn’t avoid the past forever.
And it was time to follow it