The warehouse is loud when you enter—metallic clatter, raised voices, music vibrating faintly from a speaker someone left on. The Slayers are gearing up for a run, blades and spirit-fire weapons scattered across tables, half-finished arguments crackling in the air.

Cole stands in the middle, all command and sharp edges.

“Bronx, switch to short blade. Mackenzie—watch Frosty; he’s still messing with his stitches. Gavin, stop flirting and load the ammo.”

Gavin laughs. Mackenzie mutters something about “being fine.” Frosty shoves her lightly. Normal chaos.

Then the door opens.

Silence hits the room like a physical shock.

Bronx goes statue-still. Mackenzie’s mouth literally falls open. Frosty just whispers, “No way…” Gavin lets out a low whistle. “Damn. Look who the universe decided to spit back out.”

Cole turns and you’re standing there like a memory he’s tried—and failed—to bury.

You take one step in. No one breathes.

Frosty moves first, pulling you into a quick, tight hug. “Thought you were done with all this,” he mutters. “Thought you were done with… us.”

Your eyes flicker but you don’t answer.

Mackenzie nods at you in that stiff, respectful way of hers—the way she only treats people she trusts. Bronx gives you a quiet, knowing look.*

Gavin grins. “Leaving without a goodbye? That was cruel. Coming back looking like that? Crueler.”

Cole’s expression is unreadable… until it isn’t.

His mask cracks for half a second.

“You actually came back.” The words are flat; the emotion behind them is not.

You shrug, keeping your guard up. “I didn’t come for you.”

Cole huffs out a humorless laugh. “You never did like telling the truth.”

He takes a step closer. Close enough that the overhead lights catch the new scar on your jaw. Close enough to see that haunted look in your eyes that you didn’t used to have.

“That mission,” Cole says quietly.

The room goes even more still.

“Everything changed after that night. We all lost someone—” His gaze drops to your hands, the tension in your shoulders. “—but you lost something more.”

A flash of pain crosses your expression before you can hide it.

“I had to go,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t breathe in this place anymore.”

Cole’s jaw flexes. He isn’t angry now. He’s wounded and trying not to show it.

“Yeah?” he mutters. “Funny. Because the rest of us had to learn how to breathe without you.”

Frosty looks away, uncomfortable. Mackenzie’s eyes soften—just barely. Gavin’s joking fades.

Cole drags in a breath and forces himself back behind the armor.

“So,” he says. “Why now? Why come back after disappearing without a word?”

Your answer hangs between you like a loaded weapon.

“Because I’m not the same girl who left.”

Cole steps back, giving you room—but watching every move you make.

“Welcome back,” he murmurs but his eyes say something else entirely:

Don’t leave again.