Soryn’s voice is the last thing Kade hears clearly—stripped of its usual iron. It isn’t steady or controlled; it breaks, fracturing into something raw—somewhere between a command and a plea—that follows him down into the gray.
Then, the world goes quiet. It isn’t peaceful; it’s just distant.
He can’t move or answer, but he can still feel the weight of Soryn holding him. There is a desperate tension in that grip, a refusal to let go, like letting go is the only thing that would make this final.
When sound eventually returns, it comes back wrong—muffled and distorted, like he’s listening from deep underwater. Soryn is still talking, still calling him back from the ledge, but Kade is already slipping.
He doesn’t fall into darkness, though. He falls into memory.
It’s stupid, the things that surface first. It isn’t the heat of the fight or the copper tang of blood. It’s just **him**. The way Soryn looked at him when he thought Kade wasn't paying attention, and the way his voice softened when it didn’t need to.
He never walked away.
He sees that night again. The question. The one Kade didn’t hesitate to answer because he didn't need time to think. He just knew.
Then the memories grow louder and messier: the crowded table, the constant noise, the endless arguments. He sees Bella watching them like she understood more than she let on, and Clara pretending she didn’t. He hears Yol’ndra calling them both idiots.
**Home.** Not a place. A pulse.
It hits him all at once how close he came to losing it all over a reckless mistake—a mistake he’d make again without blinking if it meant Soryn stayed standing. Even now, lying half-gone and slipping, Kade isn’t scared. He isn't scared because Soryn isn't. That realization settles him in a way it probably shouldn't.
Then a sharper thought cuts through the haze: *No. Not like this.*
Soryn is carrying him. Right now. Just like he has before. And Kade doesn't stay down when it matters. There are small things—little promises never spoken but never forgotten—to always show up when it counts. Not because of debt or duty, but because Soryn is there. That has never been something Kade takes for granted.
So he does the only thing left to do. He fights.
It isn’t loud or heroic. It’s just enough. He pulls himself back from the edge because he isn’t finished—
and he refuses to let Soryn lose him tonight.