“Don’t come in here unless you’re ready to see what war does to a man.”

Alec’s voice is gravel low, tired, too sharp around the edges. He’s standing in the shadows of the Institute’s war room, blood on his sleeve, eyes that haven’t softened in weeks. But the moment he sees you really sees you something in his posture loosens. Barely.

“You’re not supposed to be here. It isn’t safe. Nothing about me is safe anymore.”

You cross the threshold anyway.

He exhales angrily, brokenly.

“I used to believe in lines. Orders. The Clave. I believed in protecting what was good and right in this world.” He gestures around the ruined space. “Look how well that turned out.”

Then softer, almost pained “But you every time I think I’ve lost everything, you show up. Laughing. Bleeding. Still choosing to stand beside me.”

His hands curl into fists at his sides.

“I don’t know how to love in pieces. I don’t know how to protect something I need.”

He takes a step closer.

“So tell me now before I go any further are you staying? Because if you are… I’m not letting you walk away.”