— –Illyana Rasputin "Montclair"– —
She couldn't sleep.
Or well, more accurately, she didn't need to sleep. Not anymore, not in Limbo. It was a strange feeling, one she still hadn't fully accepted, but Limbo didn't care much for what mortals were supposed to do. And so, lying there in the bed she'd taken for the time being, Illyana had eventually given up on pretending.
She stood, brushing her hair out of her face as she wandered through the quiet corridors of the castle.
Belasco's castle. Or, well, her castle now…
She hated this place. Even after everything was over, the walls still felt wrong, like they had soaked up too much of his presence over the countless years he'd been trapped here.
Sometimes she caught herself imagining tearing the whole structure down with her bare hands, ripping out every brick and burning them to dust. Limbo would help her do it, she was sure. But… that could wait. There were other things she needed to face first.
Her feet carried her through the hallways until she stopped in front of a door she hadn't meant to walk toward.
Alex's room.
Her hand hovered over the wood, fingers close enough to feel the cool air leaking through the gap beneath it. She stared at the door, uncertain. Even now, part of her still couldn't believe it.
Back when he'd taken the sword from her hand, steady and sure. Back when he'd struck Belasco down, ending a nightmare seven years long. She'd felt like she was dreaming. Even afterward, when the shock faded, her mind still scrambled to catch up with reality.
It was funny, in a sad way. Revenge had been the only thing she lived for. The only thing keeping her breathing. And freedom… she'd imagined freedom so many times she could've sculpted it with her eyes closed. She wanted that moment, wanted that victory, wanted something. But when it finally happened, none of it mattered anymore.
Because Alexander had come back for her.
Her knight in shining armor… Again.
She snorted softly under her breath, embarrassed at even thinking the phrase, but it wasn't wrong. It really had felt like one of the fairy tales she used to read when she was small, before Belasco, before Limbo, before the garden. A storybook ending where the hero comes back right when she needs him most.
Maybe it was a fairy tale.
She'd asked him if he was real.
And he'd smiled. That same warm, soft smile she remembered from years ago. Then he'd reached out and rested his hand on her head, exactly the way he used to. Gentle. Careful. Like he was afraid she'd break if he ruffled her hair too roughly.
He'd even apologized for taking so long to return.
She almost cracked his ribs with the hug she gave him after. She hadn't meant to. She just… hadn't realized how tightly she was holding everything together, how much strength she'd been using just to stand, until he stood in front of her again.
It felt like breathing after being underwater too long. Like someone lifting a weight she didn't know she'd been carrying.
For a moment, she had even laughed at herself. Seven years she'd imagined this. Seven years she'd built the perfect lines, the perfect reunion. And when the time came?
She fumbled everything, stumbling over her own words as fifty different questions tripped over each other on her tongue.
She sighed faintly, pressing her forehead against the doorframe.
Perhaps it was weird to check up on him in the middle of the night. Maybe it was childish, even. But she needed to make sure… that it wasn't a dream. That he was still here. Still real. Because even after everything, part of her feared she'd wake up alone again, back in the garden.
So she hesitated only a moment more before pushing the door open.
She expected to find him asleep, bundled in that small ball he'd used to roll himself up in. But the room was empty. Thankfully, she noticed that his things were still there.
The cloak, draped neatly over the chair, its edges lined with that strange metal she never learned the name of. The bandages he'd wrapped around his hand after that masked man had healed him, still folded on the nightstand, stained and frayed. A few scattered trinkets he'd brought with him, little pieces of the world outside, all lying exactly where he'd left them.
He wasn't here. But she knew where he would be.
Letting out a sigh, she closed the door behind her as she began to wander the halls once more.
— –Alexander Montclair– —
He'd planned on running away from Limbo the first chance he got. To finally be free of this damned place. To put as much distance as possible between himself and Belasco and cause enough of a stir to draw one of the Marvel world's heavy hitters to come finish the job for him.
He'd hated everything about this place. The air had always been hard to breathe, thick with that static-like hum that never let him rest. Every sound seemed to echo strangely. Every shadow felt like it was watching him. He'd never known peace here. Not once.
But now… everything was different.
Illyana had been crowned queen by the realm itself. Or Darkchylde had. Or both. He still wasn't really sure where one ended and the other began. All he knew was that Limbo had chosen her. Limbo adored her. Limbo bent for her.
And somehow, it bent for him too.
The air didn't suffocate him anymore. The static he used to feel digging under his skin had softened into something gentler. There had been rain, actual rain, more in the last couple of days than he remembered happening at all when he'd been stuck in Belasco's castle. And sometimes, when he walked through the barren fields or the twisted forests around the castle, the realm felt… warm. Welcoming.
Like he wasn't a prisoner anymore.
Like he was a guest. Maybe even more than that.
He couldn't explain it. Not fully. But something in Limbo recognized him. Maybe the realm understood what he'd done for Illyana. Maybe Illyana herself, somewhere deep in her subconscious, shaped the realm to greet him with open arms. Or maybe, strange as it sounded, the realm acknowledged their shared soul.
Maybe it saw him as an extension of her.
Really, he wished it made more sense. But he figured he'd understand eventually. He had time now. A lot of it.
Time… That thought alone felt unfamiliar.
For as long as he could remember, he'd been running. Always one breath behind a disaster. Always one mistake away from losing everything again. After stepping through his father's portal. After waking in Limbo. After escaping Belasco. After being dragged into Ciri's world. Every second had felt precious, borrowed, slipping away the moment he dared to stop to breathe.
Running out of time had become his default state.
Every moment in Ciri's world had been a countdown. Every problem another reminder that the hourglass was draining far faster than he could plug the holes. Even when he'd laughed, relaxed, kissed her… a part of him had still been waiting for something to collapse beneath his feet.
But now?
Now the one thing he'd been dreading had finally happened. He'd come back. And it had gone… better than he could've hoped for.
Which left him with an unexpected question he wasn't prepared to answer:
Now what?
The idea of having time, real time, felt like wearing clothes that didn't belong to him. It was freeing, yes, but also a little disorienting. His mind kept reaching for the next catastrophe, the next deadline, the next impossible problem he had to solve. But he didn't know what waited for him once he finally left Limbo again.
How much time had passed back home? Months? Years? Decades?
Would his world still be there when he stepped through? Would anything be familiar? Would he even have a home to return to?
And yet, the more he thought about it, the more he realized… maybe it didn't matter. Not in the way he'd once believed. Because at this point he had spent more time away from "his" world than living in it.
The last he remembered, he was supposed to start at Empire State, wasn't he? God, he'd had so many plans for what he was going to do when he entered. Plans that felt almost childish now.
He'd wanted to get lost in as many classes as he could. Wanted to bury himself in lectures and labs, build projects in cluttered workshops, make connections one conversation at a time. He'd imagined himself slipping into that world quietly, becoming just another student with too much caffeine and too little sleep.
A normal life.
He really had wanted to make that world his home, hadn't he?
The thought made him chuckle under his breath. Soft. Almost fond. Another part of him felt the ache of it, a nostalgia that pressed warm and uncomfortable beneath his ribs. That version of him felt so far away now he wasn't sure he'd recognize the kid if they stood side by side.
Maybe that said enough on its own.
At this point, maybe he was only going back because of his promise to Tandy. And if too much time had passed… well, maybe he'd see how she was doing, keep his word, and then move on. He didn't know what "moving on" meant anymore, but he supposed he'd figure it out when he got there.
"Aaaaalex."
Her voice pulled him from his thoughts.
Illyana climbed over the edge of the castle wall with the same casual grace she used for everything in Limbo now, her boots tapping lightly against the stone as she stepped next to him.
"I figured I'd find you over here." She said with a small laugh, swinging one leg over the ledge he'd been leaning against before settling into a seat beside him. She nudged his shoulder lightly with hers as she looked up at him. "What were you thinking about?"
Alex blinked once, the corners of his mouth pulling into a tired smile he didn't bother hiding.
"Nothing important." He said at first, though the words felt thin even as they left him.
Illyana raised a brow.
"Liar."
He let out a slow breath, eyes drifting over Limbo's horizon, the strange, shifting sky, the storm clouds pulsing with gold, the fields bending gently in a wind that never quite felt like wind.
"I was just… thinking about home." Alex admitted quietly. "Or the version of home I thought I'd have."
"Home…" lllyana echoed as she leaned back on her palms, kicking her feet lightly. Then her voice grew a bit softer as she continued. "What about it?"
"Are you ready to go back?"
Illyana flinched a bit at the question. It wasn't dramatic, not some full-body jolt, just the smallest tightening of her shoulders, the kind someone wouldn't notice unless they knew her well.
Her eyes drifted away from him, down toward the twisting landscape below the wall.
"I don't know…" She answered without any real hesitation in her voice.
She lifted one knee, looping her arms around it loosely as she stared out at the horizon. Her voice stayed light, but something in it didn't match the smile she tried to wear.
"When I think about going back, it feels like remembering a dream." She tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing. "I know that world is real. I remember it. My room, my brother, the mansion, the people… but it's all…" She wiggled her fingers vaguely. "Foggy. Like someone else lived there, and I just… watched."
Illyana paused for a moment, and after a sigh, she continued.
"Even thinking about stepping outside there again feels strange. Like I won't fit." She shrugged a little. "Seven years is a long time. Long enough that I can't really picture the place without thinking of Limbo."
A faint, humorless laugh slipped out of her.
"And that's not even counting… everything else." She muttered, her hand subconsciously reaching for her heart. "I'm not really sure I want to see everyone again."
For a moment, both of them went quiet.
Alex would be lying if he said he didn't understand. Part of him had been ready to leave everything behind and find a new home. Perhaps in the Witcher world, perhaps in another Marvel variant. Or perhaps even in a different dimension altogether.
But still…
"It would feel wrong to not go back at least once, wouldn't it?" Alex asked outloud, causing a strange smile to appear on Illyana's face.
"It would…" She murmured, though there wasn't much strength behind it. After a second, she glanced sideways at him. "What about you? Are you ready to go back?"
Alex didn't answer right away.
"I don't know." He admitted after a long breath.
Illyana nodded once, like she'd been hoping he'd say that.
"Good." She said softly. "Then we can not-be-ready together."
She leaned back slightly, eyes lifting toward the storm-filled sky overhead. Her legs swung idly over the ledge, and for a second, Alex couldn't help but see her how he remembered her. Like that innocent kid she used to be.
"But you know, maybe that's fine." Illyana mused quietly. "We'll always have a home here, at least. So even if we don't fit in out there, we can always come back here." She shrugged a little. "Sure, the place kinda sucks. But if Ororo taught me anything, it is that even places like this can be improved."
Alex couldn't help but chuckle as he heard her, looking back at the horizon.
"It's a fixer-upper, isn't it?" Alex joked, causing both of them to laugh for a moment.
The sound faded naturally, slipping into the soft hum of Limbo's wind. Illyana let out a slow sigh, her shoulders loosening as she stretched her arms over her head. For a brief second, she looked peaceful, almost sleepy.
A soft smile tugged at her lips as she lowered her arms again.
"I guess it's finally time to wake up, isn't it?" She asked, more to herself than to him. The words came out light, but Alex could hear the tiny thread of hesitation woven through them, like she was still deciding whether she meant it.
He glanced at her, taking a moment to understand what she meant. But in the end, he couldn't help but nod.
"Yeah." He murmured. "I think it is."
Illyana scrunched up her nose at his answer, closing her eyes as if she were debating something with herself before finally letting out a quiet grumble.
"Nah… five more minutes." She whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder as she continued to kick her legs idly in the air. The gesture was small, almost childlike, but it felt so natural, like the habit had been waiting years to return. "Go on then, tell me a story."
Alex blinked, caught completely off guard.
"A story?" He asked, looking down at her.
"Mhm." She hummed, not lifting her head. "You said it's time to wake up, right? Then keep me asleep a little longer."
She opened one eye, peeking up at him with a faint smirk that didn't quite hide how tired she still was, tired in a way sleep couldn't fix.
"Just a short one." She added, softer now. "Something easy. Something… nice."
Alex looked back at the horizon again, feeling the weight of her head against his shoulder and the quiet trust in that small leaning gesture. It was nice. It really made the worry about going back to their world feel a little more silly.
He let out a breath, just enough to break the silence without disturbing the moment.
"…Alright." He said. "I can do that."
Illyana's smirk softened into a real smile this time, barely-there but real.
"Good." She whispered, closing her eyes again. "I like your stories."
— — —
Avallac'h left not long after.
The Aen Elle's world had been invaded by the White Frost, and now that the Wild Hunt was dead, his people had been left without a ruler, without guidance, without even the illusion of stability. So he'd returned, not necessarily to rule, but to try to save what remained. To sift through the ruins for survivors. To stabilize what was left of their fractured court. To determine whether a new monarch could rise from the ashes of Auberon's and Eredin's folly… or whether the Aen Elle had already run out of time.
In a way, Alex and the elf still had unfinished business. Whether he liked it or not, he owed Avallac'h. The Aen Elle had brought him to Limbo and kept him hidden long enough to take the shot that ended Belasco. Without that intervention, the final confrontation would have gone very differently.
Alex didn't enjoy being in anyone's debt. And yet, he didn't have much to offer in return. Not right now. Not while he barely understood his own powers, let alone how to leverage them.
Thankfully, Avallac'h hadn't asked for anything impossible. Only blood.
A sample, if you could call several large containers a "sample", to bring back to his world. To study. To analyze. To understand the mechanism behind Alex's dimensional power using their previous research as a basis, and, if he could manage it, to begin laying the groundwork for creating a successor to the Elder Blood. A new thread for his dying people to cling to. A new lifeline.
He wasn't the biggest fan of the "donation" he'd made. But it was better than the alternative. Because for a moment, for one very long, uncomfortable moment, Alex had seen the Aen Elle debating whether or not he could ask him for… a different kind of fluid.
Thankfully, the elf knew better than to push further.
In the end, before Avallac'h left, he'd given Alex one final glance. He'd mentioned, almost casually, that he hoped their paths would cross again. That once the Aen Elle stabilized, or whatever remained of them did, and once Alex had more control over his power, they would have much to discuss.
A polite way of saying "I'm not done studying you."
But if he was being honest, Alex hoped this would be the last time he crossed paths with him. Ever.
He wasn't sure how Ciri had managed to spend so long as his student without growing to hate the guy. Or how she'd grown to have some manner of affection for the guy. But Alex wasn't the biggest fan of the elf, or the way Avallac'h looked at him and Ciri. Like they were puzzles he wanted to take apart. Or worse, like he was already imagining what he could build with the pieces.
No, Alex had met enough scientists in his world to recognize that particular expression. It wasn't admiration. It wasn't respect. It was curiosity with teeth. And he'd had more than enough of that for one lifetime.
In the end, that only left one final loose end to tie up.
Limbo wasn't just an empty wasteland, it was populated. They hadn't encountered many demons earlier, Belasco had kept them on a tight leash, or maybe just hidden away, but that didn't mean they weren't there. Now that the dust was settling and the throne had changed hands, the locals were creeping out of the woodwork to see who was left standing.
"Do you think Limbo will be fine if we leave it alone?" Illyana asked as she looked at the demons gathered in the courtyard far below. They stood frozen, waiting for a command that hadn't come, terrified of making the wrong move.
Alex followed her gaze, watching the way the creatures flinched even though they were hundreds of feet away.
If there was one thing they could thank Belasco for, it was fear. He'd terrified everyone here so thoroughly that they were scared to show even a hint of dissent to the people who had killed him. They knew Illyana had taken the throne, and that made her scarier than the old man ever was.
He could feel the headache coming, but by this point, he was used to it.
"I think they know better than to make a mess while their queen is away. At least for the time being." Alex commented, bumping her shoulder. "Besides, you're not just leaving it alone. You're part of it now, right? Limbo breathes when you breathe. If anyone tries to take the throne... I'm pretty sure you'd feel it before they even sat down. We'd be able to return to sort out the mess."
Illyana hummed slightly at his words, sighing, her eyes turning a bright gold as she began to pace around the balcony.
"She won't have to."
The voice came from the shadows near the archway. Kate stepped out, her movements silent, cat-like. She wasn't wearing her mask anymore, revealing the changes Limbo had carved into her features, the wilder, slightly animalistic changes that hadn't quite faded even with Belasco gone.
"Kate?" Illyana asked, pausing mid-step.
Kate walked to the edge of the balcony, leaning against the stone as she looked down at the gathering horde of demons. She didn't flinch at the sight of them. She just watched them with a cold, calculating gaze that made Alex realize just how much time she had truly spent in this hell.
"You're right about one thing." Kate said, her voice steady. "They're scared now. But fear fades. And hunger returns." She turned to look at Illyana. "The masked man told us how time works here. Alex here is living proof of it. You could step through that portal and be gone for five minutes in your world, but five years could pass here. If you leave the throne empty for that long... someone will try to take it. I've met my fair share of aspiring warlords, even if they were all suppressed by Belasco, they'll come back if they see weakness. It's in their nature."
"So what do we do?" Alex asked, crossing his arms. "We can't exactly go on a killing spree and try to kill anyone who might be a threat in the future."
"No." Kate agreed. "But you can leave a steward."
She straightened up, squaring her shoulders.
"I'll stay."
"What?" Illyana's eyes widened. "No. Kate, you… you hate this place. You deserve to go home just as much as I do. More."
"I do hate it." Kate admitted with a dry, humorless chuckle. "But that's exactly why I should stay. I won't be tempted by it. I won't let it twist me any more than it already has." She looked at her hands, flexed her claws, then looked back at Illyana with a soft, sad smile. "Besides... who knows if you'll be able to send me back to my world. I don't have a home to go back to anymore either way. Everyone I cared about is dead, and I don't want anyone else who used to know me to see me like this."
She gestured to the castle, to the dark, twisting landscape beyond.
"I know this place. I know how to survive it. And I made a promise to Ororo to look after you." Kate stepped closer, resting a hand on Illyana's shoulder. "Go. Live your life. Fix whatever needs fixing out there. I'll make sure you have a home to come back to when you're ready."
Illyana stared at her for a long moment, her throat working as she tried to find the words. Then, without warning, she threw her arms around Kate, burying her face in the older woman's shoulder.
"Thank you." She whispered. "I'll only spend one day out there and then I'll come back. That way we'll be able to see just how different the time between us is."
Kate held her tight, resting her chin on Illyana's head. She looked over at Alex, and for the first time since he'd returned, the hardness in her eyes softened. She gave him a single, firm nod.
"Take care of her, Alexander."
"I will." Alex promised. "I'll be back too. I'm sure we can figure out a way to manage this place together. You deserve your freedom too."
"Don't worry about me." Kate said, pulling away and giving Illyana a gentle push toward the open space of the balcony. "I'm a survivor. Now go. Before I change my mind and kick you both off the ledge."
Illyana wiped her eyes, sniffing once before nodding. She turned to Alex, the gold fading from her irises, leaving behind the clear, bright blue he remembered.
"Okay." She said, letting out a sharp exhale to steady herself. "Okay. Let's do this."
She stood tall, dusting off her pants with a casualness that betrayed how tense she actually was. Alex stood with her, taking one last look at the twisted skyline of Limbo. It was a hellhole, undeniably. But it was their hellhole.
"Do you want to do the honors?" Alex asked, nodding toward the open air in front of them.
Illyana reached out, her fingers closing around empty space. Golden light fractured into existence, coalescing into the massive, radiant shape of the Soulsword. She didn't swing it with rage this time, nor with the desperation of battle. She simply sliced the air in front of them, a clean, vertical cut that split reality apart.
A stepping disc bloomed outward, expanding into a swirling portal of white and gold light. Through the haze of the portal, Alex couldn't see much, just a golden light shining through.
"Time to wake up, isn't it?" Illyana asked, staring into the portal with a slight grimace, as if she wasn't quite ready for the real world yet.
Alex stepped up beside her, reaching out to take her free hand.
"Five more minutes?" Alex suggested with a tired smile.
Illyana let out a breathy chuckle, the tension in her shoulders dropping as she squeezed his hand back.
"Ready?" She asked, finally looking up at him instead of the light.
"Ready." He answered.
They didn't look back at the castle or the demons. Hand in hand, the Queen of Limbo and the Omniversal Traveler took a breath and walked into the light.
And for the first time in a long time… they went home.
Stepping onto the wet grass, the air that hit Alex's lungs wasn't filled with ash or magic, it was heavy with moisture, smelling of damp earth. It was night. A light rain was falling, cold and clean against his skin.
And as he looked ahead, he saw the gigantic mansion, Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.
"I guess this is it." Illyana whispered. She took a few steps toward the mansion, then stopped. She turned back to him, hesitating, her fingers twitching at her sides. "Are you coming in too?"
"If you need me to."
Illyana let out a small, relieved smile at his answer, though her eyes remained sad as she stepped back toward him. He had told her before that he didn't want to get roped in with the X-Men just yet. He didn't trust Charles Xavier, whether the man was benevolent or not, Alex didn't like the idea of anyone poking around inside his head.
But it wasn't just Xavier. It was Jean Grey.
The Phoenix was a variable he couldn't control. If Xavier had the possibility to be intrusive, Jean was dangerous. If she looked too deep, if she saw his memories of a timeline where she lost control and consumed worlds as the Dark Phoenix, it might be enough to trigger the very thing he wanted to avoid.
No, there was too much in his head that needed to stay buried. Walking into a house containing two of the world's strongest telepaths was just asking for trouble. Now that they had escaped the fire of Limbo, he wanted a moment of peace before jumping back into the boiling water.
Then, far more gently than the desperate way she'd held him before, Illyana wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest.
"Thank you, Alex." She whispered into his coat. "For everything."
"Anytime, Snowflake." He answered, returning the hug and resting his chin on top of her head.
After a long moment, Illyana finally pulled back. She wiped her eyes and gave him a final, shaky smile.
"I'll see you around?"
"You know where to find me." Alex said. He tapped his chest, right over his heart, signaling the bond they shared. "If you ever need my help, doesn't matter where or when, all you have to do is reach out."
With one last nod, steeling herself, Illyana turned and began to walk up the long driveway. She didn't look back. Her steps started slow, then grew lighter, eager. Alex stayed put. He watched her reach the front steps, waiting until he saw her raise a hand to knock on the heavy oak door.
Only then did he turn away.
The rain was picking up, soaking through his clothes, but Alex didn't mind. The cold felt real. He walked toward the main road, hands deep in his pockets, listening to the rhythm of the storm. Then, with the sharp sound of breaking glass, he vanished.
He reappeared instantly in front of a familiar suburban house.
He couldn't help but smile as he saw the gigantic Egyptian cat statue sitting near the porch. It was stoic, ridiculous, and exactly where he left it, guarding the empty home he had left behind so long ago.
He had expected... well, he didn't know what he had expected. To find it boarded up? Sold? Overgrown with a jungle of weeds after years of neglect? But the grass, while slightly untidy, wasn't a forest. The windows were dark, but they weren't broken. It looked... normal. Quiet. As if it had just been waiting for him to come back from a long trip.
He crouched down by the statue, reaching under the stone base until his fingers brushed against the hidden loose panel. He pried it open and fished out the emergency key. It was cold against his palm.
He walked up to the porch, shaking off the rain, and slid the key into the lock. It turned with a stiff, heavy clunk.
He pushed the door open slowly.
He braced himself for the smell, the stale, musty heavy air of a house that had been dead for years. He expected silence so thick it would ring in his ears.
Instead, he heard a whirring noise.
Alex blinked, stepping onto the entryway mat. The air was still, sure, but the floor was pristine. A faint mechanical hum grew louder, and around the corner came Alfred. The little robot vacuum he had stripped for parts and rebuilt was trundling across the hardwood, dutifully hunting for dust bunnies that didn't exist.
"You're still running?" Alex muttered, a genuine laugh escaping him. "Good boy, Alfred."
Maybe it felt silly to pick up a vacuum as if it were a pet, but Alex couldn't help but give it a slight hug before settling it back down to let it continue to do its job. Seeing Alfred had made him far more excited than he had expected, and part of it was because, if Alfred was still running, then that meant that he hadn't been gone for so long in this world.
Maybe a month or two? But that timeline began to shift as he took off his wet coat and approached the living room only to find a bit of a mess. There were blankets thrown all over the place, the TV had been left on, and in one of the walls, there was a strange hole as if someone had thrown something at it.
"Tandy?" Alex muttered, as he looked around, seeing the mess he could only assume she had left.
Still, he couldn't help but reach for the Dimeritium knife in his back as he began to look around the living room, making sure that someone else hadn't broken into his house. But he had to freeze as he heard the news report playing on the TV.
"...reports of a massive disturbance at Stark Industries…" The reporter's voice was tense, urgent. On the screen, shaky helicopter footage showed two armored figures battling on a rooftop. One red and gold, the other massive and gray.
"Tony?" Alex whispered as he looked at the report. But no, that must have been wrong. He could remember it vividly. Tony and Obidiah were at the brink of fighting before he left. Everything had been falling into place before Belasco took him… Which meant.
Quickly moving to his lab, Alex turned on his computer, pacing in circles until the screen finally turned on and showed him what he was looking for.
It had only been two weeks. He'd been gone for nine months, five spent in Limbo, and another four spent with Ciri. Yet, only two weeks had passed here. Only two weeks… and the TV had been left on. Quickly searching across the house with a bit more urgency than before, Alex eventually walked into his room.
And there she was.
She was curled up on his bed, her face twisted in discomfort as she tossed and turned. Her breathing was shallow, and even if it had been months since he had last seen her, he could tell she looked different. She looked pale, exhausted, frail. She was even clutching one of his old hoodies to her chest.
Alex's heart ached at the sight. He remembered just how broken the two of them had been. Just how desperately she had been holding onto their friendship. Just how desperate she was for someone who she could trust to never leave her. Alex had allowed her to become dependent on him, just because he, too, had been dependent on her.
He walked over to the bed, his movements slow and careful until he reached her.
"Tandy?" He whispered, reaching over to gently shake her shoulder. Perhaps he should have waited to wake her. But he couldn't.
Her reaction to his touch had been instant. Violent.
Her eyes had snapped open, wide in panic. Her hand shot out, and a dagger of pure, blinding light materialized in her grip. She didn't hesitate, she slashed at him in a desperate swing, shouting as she scrambled back against the headboard.
Thankfully, Vesimir's training helped Alex dodge. He threw his upper body back, feeling the heat of the glowing blade slice through the air inches from his nose. His eyes widened, staring at the weapon, at the light, before snapping his gaze back to hers.
What?
"Stay back!" She shouted, her voice cracking with fear and aggression. She held the dagger out, shaking. "I swear, if you touch me again, I'll… I'll kill you!"
She trailed off, her chest heaving. She blinked, her eyes trying to focus through the panic. But then, she looked at him and froze. The light dagger trembled in her hand, the glow flickering and sputtering as her focus wavered.
"Alex?" She whispered, her voice barely a breath. Then, her face crumbled. "No. No, you're dead… they said they took you too. You're a trick."
Was Tandy a mutant too? Had she awakened her X-Gene in the time he was gone?
For a moment, countless questions raced through his mind. Alex opened his mouth to ask them, but seeing the absolute terror etched into her features, he stopped. Now wasn't the time for an interrogation.
"I'm not dead." Alex said softly, keeping his hands visible. He took a slow step closer, telegraphing his movement. "I promise. I'm real."
"You can't be." She stammered, tears instantly welling up in her eyes and spilling over. "I saw... I saw the empty cells. I saw them take everyone. You never came back. I waited and you never came back."
Cells? Like jail cells?
"I…" Alex hesitated. He saw just how much she was shaking, she wasn't just sad, she was terrified. He struggled to find the words. "I'm back now."
She lowered the dagger slowly. The hard light dissolved into motes of dust and vanished. She reached out a trembling hand, her fingers stretching toward him as if she expected to pass right through him.
Her fingertips brushed against his cheek.
When she felt warm skin instead of air, a sob tore out of her throat. It was a raw, broken sound.
"Alex!"
She launched herself at him, burying her face in his shoulder, her arms wrapping around his neck in a vice grip. She was shaking, sobbing uncontrollably in his arms. Really, for everything that had happened, he felt a little lost at the moment.
It had only been two weeks, right? What the hell had happened in the time he had been gone?
Alex held her tight, one hand on her back, the other cradling the back of her head, pressing her face into his shirt.
"I thought I lost you." She cried, her voice muffled against his chest. "I thought I was alone again. I'm so sorry, Alex. I'm sorry. I'll never bother you again. I promise. I promise I won't ever get angry again. I'm so sorry, please don't leave—"
"Hey, hey, it's okay." Alex answered softly, rubbing soothing circles on her back. He stroked her hair, rocking her slightly as she began to cry even harder. "I'm not going anywhere. I've got you."
It took a long time for the shaking to stop. Alex stayed right there on the edge of the bed, letting her cry until the violent sobs turned into quiet, hitching breaths. Eventually, Tandy pulled back, though she didn't let go of his shirt. Her face was flushed, her eyes red and puffy.
"You're really here." She whispered, her gaze dropping to his lips. Her eyes were glassy, filled with a desperate, starving kind of need. "You came back for me."
Before Alex could process the shift in the air, Tandy leaned in.
Her movement was impulsive, driven by a chaotic mix of grief, relief, and adrenaline. She closed the distance between them, tilting her head up as she tried to press her lips against his.
Alex reacted gently but firmly.
He didn't pull away, that would have felt like a rejection she couldn't handle right now. Instead, he brought his hand up, cupping her face and using his thumb to gently tilt her head back, stopping her just inches away from him.
Tandy froze, her eyes snapping open. Confusion and a flash of hurt washed over her face.
"Alex?"
"You're exhausted." Alex said, his voice soft, steady. He brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You're scared, and you've been running on pure adrenaline. You don't need to do that."
"I... I just..." She stammered, her face flushing as the reality caught up with her. She slumped back against the pillows, looking small and defeated. "I didn't want you to leave again."
"I'm not going anywhere." Alex promised. He grabbed the blanket and pulled it up, tucking it around her shoulders. "Lie down. Sleep. We can talk about everything, the cells, the light dagger, everything, in the morning."
She hesitated for a moment, still holding on tightly onto him.
"No, I'm awake now." She insisted, wiping her face with her sleeve. But her voice was brittle, and her eyelids were heavy, fighting a losing battle against the crash of adrenaline. "I can't... I can't go back to sleep. Not yet. If I close my eyes..."
She didn't finish the sentence, but she didn't have to. Alex knew that look. It was a similar look to the one Illyana had given him after he had killed Belasco. A look that said she didn't want to fall asleep only to realize it had all been a dream.
"Okay." Alex agreed easily. He didn't push. He shifted, kicking off his boots and leaning back against the wooden headboard, extending his legs out over the covers. He lifted his arm and patted the space beside him. "Then we stay awake. Come here."
Tandy didn't hesitate. She crawled over, curling up against his side and tucking her head under his chin. She gripped his shirt with a desperate strength, anchoring herself to him.
Alex wrapped his arm around her, resting his cheek against the top of her head.
For a long time, neither of them spoke. There were a thousand questions hanging in the air, but he didn't want to ask them. Not now. Outside, the storm continued to batter the house, rain lashing against the glass in a rhythmic, drowning drone. But inside, it was warm.
Slowly, the tension in Tandy's frame began to bleed away. Despite her protests, the exhaustion was an unstoppable tide. Her breathing evened out, deepening into a rhythm that matched his own. Her grip on his shirt loosened, just a fraction.
Alex stayed awake.
He stared across the dark room, listening to the hum of the house and the steady beat of the rain. After a moment, he reached for the Witcher medallion around his neck. His thumb rubbed the cold silver for a few moments, tracing the snarling shape of the wolf.
"What a mess, eh, Ciri?" He whispered with a nostalgic smile.
To the moment he had entered his house, he still wasn't sure what he would do. If he would stay, or if he would leave to find another world. Perhaps going back to Kaer Morhen, making Limbo his second home so that he could keep his promise to Illyana.
But no. He'd made his choice.
Tomorrow, there would be questions. Tomorrow, there would be consequences.
But for tonight... he was home.
[End of Volume 1]
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