The car was quiet.
Not the comfortable kind of quiet where you can relax, but the heavy, thoughtful kind that presses down, full of words unspoken. Dorian had excused himself minutes ago, telling us he had some "after-mission arrangements" to handle, and that left Liam and me alone in the backseat, the hum of the engine and the occasional creak of the tires the only sounds around us.
I didn't move at first. My hands rested lightly on my lap, still stiff from adrenaline and the lingering ache of the fight. My mind replayed the chaos over and over—the assassins, the tear gas, the rush of protecting the Reiss family, the sharp sting of the poison that almost stole me.
Liam didn't speak either. At least, not at first. I could feel him there, just a few inches away, but somehow it felt like miles.
Then he shifted slightly, and his voice came out low, almost a whisper.
"You scared the hell out of me," he said.
I lifted my eyes, meeting his. He wasn't angry. Not at me. Just… broken. And that broke me too.
"I'm fine," I said softly, but my own voice sounded distant. "Really. I… survived. That's all that matters."
He shook his head, eyes darkening. "It's not just surviving, Nyx. You were poisoned. You went down in front of them, and I… I couldn't—" His jaw clenched. "I couldn't get to you fast enough. I—I should have done more."
I wanted to reach out, to reassure him, but my body still felt like it had been through a storm. Instead, I just looked down, letting the words hang in the air.
"You did enough," I whispered. "You were there when it mattered. That's all I needed."
He didn't respond right away. I could hear him inhale, trying to swallow something—anger, guilt, fear. Finally, his hand reached toward mine, hovering for a second before brushing against it. Gentle. Careful.
"You know," he said quietly, "I have this… thing. I can't explain it. Every time I think something might happen to you—" He trailed off, shaking his head. "It's like my chest can't take it. And back there, when that man—" His hands tightened into fists. "When he got to you… I felt like I failed."
I swallowed, the tension in my shoulders slowly unwinding. "You didn't fail," I said, meeting his eyes this time. "I'm here. I'm breathing. And Dorian handled the rest. You… you can't blame yourself for that."
He looked at me then, really looked, and I could see it in the way his eyes softened, the way his posture loosened just a fraction. "You don't know what it's like," he murmured. "Feeling helpless… watching someone you care about get hurt… and not being able to stop it."
I exhaled slowly, reaching out to cover his hand with mine. "Then don't feel helpless now," I said. "I'm here. We made it. And we're alive."
He nodded, almost imperceptibly, but I could feel the tension in his body slowly melting away. For a moment, there was nothing but the quiet hum of the car, the faint rhythm of his breathing, and the soft grip of his hand around mine.
"You're… incredible," he finally said, voice barely above a whisper. "You know that, right? What you just did… I've seen agents in training longer than me struggle with half of that. And you… you took on forty of them and came out the other side."
I chuckled softly, a humorless sound, shaking my head. "I'm not incredible. I just… have to survive. That's all."
His eyes softened further, a shadow of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You're not just surviving, Nyx. You're… changing everything you touch. And I… I just want to be there when you do it. To make sure you come out of it alive."
I didn't answer. I just let my head lean back against the seat, letting the quiet wrap around us, letting his words settle somewhere deep inside me.
The car rolled forward, carrying us closer to the city, closer to the calm after the storm. Liam didn't speak again, and neither did I—not because there was nothing to say, but because sometimes, words would just break the fragile peace we'd earned tonight.
For now, I let the silence be enough.
The city lights flickered through the car windows as we drove back, painting soft streaks across the interior. I didn't look at them. I didn't look at Liam. I just let the quiet hum of the engine fill the space between us, letting my mind drift through everything that had happened.
The mission, the Reiss family, the fight on the ship, the poison—it all swirled together, a blur of adrenaline, fear, and something else I didn't quite want to name yet. My body ached in places I hadn't even realized were injured, and yet… I was alive. I had survived.
I finally exhaled, a long, shuddering breath that felt like it had been trapped inside me all night. "It's… over," I whispered, almost to myself.
Liam's hand found mine again, warm and steady. I didn't pull away this time. "For now," he said softly. "Until the next one."
I nodded, but my mind wasn't on the next mission. It was on the quiet moments—watching Clara hold Yeager, seeing the relief in Dorian's eyes when we secured the room, feeling the sting of poison and knowing I had made it through. All of it left a hollow weight in my chest, but also… a strange clarity.
"You scared me tonight," Liam murmured. His voice was low, almost reverent. "I—I don't think I've ever… seen you like that before."
I let out a bitter laugh, more a sound of disbelief than humor. "You think that was me? That wasn't me, Liam. That was survival. That was instinct. That was… the part of me that's done things I can't even think about without shivering."
He didn't let go. He never did. "I don't care what it was. You're still here. That's all that matters to me. I'll… I'll never forgive myself if I can't keep you safe. I just… I need you to know that."
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of his hand anchor me. Somehow, even in all this chaos, there was comfort in that small, quiet gesture. "You don't have to forgive yourself," I said softly. "I'm here. And that's enough."
For a long while, we didn't speak. Just the city rushing by, the soft whir of the tires on the asphalt, and the faint rhythm of his heartbeat through his grip on my hand. And slowly, I began to feel… something like peace.
Not happiness. Not safety. Those would take years to return, maybe never fully. But peace—the kind that comes after surviving something that should have broken you—that was enough for now.
I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. He was watching me, always watching, with a protectiveness that didn't need words. And for the first time in a long time, I realized just how much I had come to depend on it.
The car slowed as we approached my apartment. I stayed quiet, not wanting to break the fragile bubble we had created on the ride back. Liam squeezed my hand once more before letting go, giving me a small nod.
"Go rest," he said simply. "Tomorrow… we start again. But for tonight, just rest. I'll be around if you need me."
I nodded, stepping out into the cool night air, feeling every ache, every pulse of adrenaline slowly ebb away. Behind me, I knew Liam was still there, watching, always watching. And somehow… that was enough.
I entered my apartment, shutting the door quietly behind me. The weight of the night settled on my shoulders, heavy but familiar. I moved to my bed, shedding the clothes and gear of the mission, and let myself collapse onto the mattress.
Alone, finally, I let my thoughts drift. The faces of those we saved, the chaos on the ship, the moments of fear, and the moments of unexpected calm—they all replayed in my mind like a film I couldn't pause. But somewhere in all of it, a quiet ember of something new burned—a resolve.
I had survived tonight. I would survive tomorrow. And no matter how much this life tried to break me, I was learning… slowly, painfully… how to be stronger.
And Liam… he would be there, always. That much I knew.
For the first time in a long time, I let myself close my eyes, let the city hum outside my window, and finally… rest.