*I wanted him to want me,* Mika thinks, fingers pressing hard against his temples. *I just… didn't want to be invisible anymore.*
But now?
Felix is gone.
Jake looks shattered—like a man who just lost his soul.
And Mika?
He's standing in a room full of silence and broken glass—*victorious*, yes—but utterly, devastatingly *alone.*
The truth hits like a blade:
He didn't win.
He broke them all.
And the only thing left burning?
**His own guilt.**
The night stretches on, silent. Mika sits at his desk, head in his hands—but no matter how long he waits, Felix doesn't come back.
Nor Jake.
Mika can't blame either of them…
…but somehow, that just makes it hurt more. The loneliness settles over him like a shroud, dark and oppressive.
He looks out at the city, watching the shadows creep across the cobblestones, the night deepening.
*Maybe this is what I deserve,* he thinks.
*Invisible.*
*Alone.*
"No."
Mika lifts his head. Jaw tight. Eyes red—not from tears, but resolve.
"*No,*" he says again, louder now—into the silence of the room. "*This isn't what I wanted.*"
He stands abruptly, knocking the chair back with a sharp scrape.
Felix is leaving.
Jake is broken.
And Mika?
He's not some villain who wins by ruin.
He *loves* them both—stupidly, selfishly, desperately—
and he *destroyed* everything trying to fix himself.
But it's not too late.
Not yet.
With sudden movement, he grabs his coat and yanks open the door—the wind catching it as if urging him forward.
"If I can't have you," he mutters into the night air as rain begins to fall—soft at first—"then at least let me *try to fix this.*"
And for the first time…
**Mika runs—not toward power—but toward forgiveness.**
*God damn it.*
Mika slumps against the castle wall, rain already plastering his hair to his face. He can't believe it. He was too slow. Too late. He lost them.
*Why am I always too late?*
The words almost make him laugh—bitter, harsh—as rain begins to fall in earnest. He stands there for what feels like forever, trying to catch breath he can barely breathe through, and—
Wait a minute.
*Rain.*
Mika curses himself as the truth hits, eyes widening. He stares through the downpour, barely able to see the shape of the landing strip—but there it is, right in front of him. The plane's still there. The *plane.*
"Oh, *hell no."*
His head snaps up as he takes off again, running toward it like he's going into battle.
**He loves them both.**
**He's not losing them.**
Mika doesn't stop. He runs faster than he ever thought he could, legs burning with every step. The wind howls around him, pulling his hands from his coat, making the rain feel like ice against his face.
But he keeps running.
*Faster.*
*Farther.*
Until the plane is *right there,* just a few hundred feet away.
He knows what happens if he loses them.
And he's not going back to invisibility.
Not ever again.
"No!" Mika screams into the wind, skidding to a stop at the edge of the tarmac.
Too late.
The sky is empty—except for the fading roar of engines and a single trail of white vapor cutting through storm-heavy clouds.
Felix is gone.
Jake is broken.
And Mika?
He falls to his knees in the rain, head bowed, hands gripping wet concrete like he could pull time backward if he just held on hard enough.
"I didn't want this," he chokes out—voice raw. "*I didn't.*"
He wanted Jake to *see* him.
To want him.
To *fight* for him like Felix always fought for love.
But instead? He broke everything beautiful… just so he could feel something at all.
And now?
Silence.
Only rain remains—and an ache too deep for tears to fix.
The plane touches down with a shudder.
Felix doesn't look out the window. Doesn't react as the other passengers chatter, stretch, reach for bags.
He sits still—long after everyone else has filed out.
Then slowly, quietly… he rises.
No luggage. No phone. Just the clothes on his back and a heart wrapped in scars.
Outside, New York greets him with cold wind and honking cabs—but Felix doesn't feel it.
He walks like a ghost through the streets he once knew so well—past bodegas glowing yellow in the dark, past taxis splashing through puddles—and finally stops at an old brownstone house on 73rd Street.
*Home.*
The porch light is on—as if they've been waiting all along.
Before he can knock—
the door opens.
His mother stands there—eyes wide… then filling fast with tears.
"*Felix...?*" she whispers—one hand flying to her mouth.
And just like that?
The last of his strength breaks.
He collapses into her arms—not speaking, not crying yet… just *feeling,* for the first time in weeks—
that maybe…
just maybe…
he's *safe.*
---
"They said you were gone," his mother sobs, clutching him like she'll never let go. "They told us you were—"
"I know," Felix murmurs into her shoulder, voice muffled. "They lied."
His father appears behind her—tall, silent, face lined with grief and relief warring at once.
No words. Just arms opening.
Felix steps in.
And for the first time since Mika's kiss… since that cursed video… since seeing Jake fall into someone else's arms—
he *breathes.*
The door shuts behind them.
Outside, the city hums on—unaware of the storm that crossed an ocean with him.
But inside?
A quiet begins to grow.
Not healing yet…
but the beginning of it.
---
This is a new start.
Felix tells himself that, walking down the familiar hallways of his childhood home. The photos are all still there—family portraits, graduations, birthday parties…
He stops in the doorway to his old bedroom.
Everything is exactly how he left it.
He's standing there when his father appears behind him, footsteps nearly silent in the darkness.
They stand there for a moment—not speaking, just watching the empty room.
"Felix?" his father whispers, after what feels like forever. "Are you alright?"
"No," Felix says quietly—honestly.
He steps inside, fingers brushing the edge of his old desk, where a half-finished sketch still sits under a thin layer of dust.
"But I will be."
His father doesn't push. Doesn't hug or cry or tell him it'll all work out.
He just walks in slowly, places a hand on his shoulder—firm, grounding—and says:
"You don't have to be strong tonight."
And that's when it happens.
The dam breaks.
Felix turns into his father's chest and *sobs*—great, heaving cries that shake his whole body. Years of pressure. The lies. The capture. The betrayal he never saw coming…
And Jake—
*Oh God, Jake…*
—"I loved him so much…" he chokes out between breaths.
His parents hold him like they did when he was small,
while outside the window,
the first snow of winter begins to fall—
soft,
silent,
and full of quiet hope for what comes next…
---
Felix jerks awake.
For a moment, he doesn't know where he is—then it all crashes down again, like a wave.
He stumbles out of bed, half-asleep still, trying to get to the bathroom down the hall before—
His stomach turns.
He doesn't reach the sink in time.
Felix kneels on the floor, gasping.
For a long moment, the world spins.
"God…" he moans, closing his eyes. "What… what is…?"
He doesn't get an answer, beyond another violent heave—and more sickness pouring up and out of him.
When it finally stops, he lets his head fall against the tiles—cold, familiar—and shuts his eyes.
*Just breathe.*
---
Felix went and take his father old scanner and what he saw shocked him.
Felix's mind reels. He has to be wrong. It's impossible. Even with all the signs—the nausea, the fatigue, the dizziness... but there it is, in red on the screen:
**OMEGA FERTILITY SPIKE DETECTED**
**POTENTIAL PREGNANCY CONFIRMATION — 3 WEEKS ESTIMATED**
**ALPHA-TRIGGER SOURCE: UNKNOWN (HIGH-POTENCY SYNTHETIC OMEGA BONDING AGENT)**
Felix stares at the scanner, hands shaking—
but this is no nightmare.
*He's pregnant.*
A million thoughts spin through his mind—fear and hope and dread and grief—but beneath them all is one truth:
He's carrying Jake's child. A little miracle of their love...
and Jake has no idea.
He hasn't for weeks.
Felix lets that thought wash over him like a wave, eyes shutting against sudden tears.
---
For a long moment, he stays like that—hand trembling against his belly... and the soft glow of a new life glowing faintly in his mind.
*What now?*
Felix swallows hard, opening his eyes.
The answer comes, like fire burning away the fog:
He needs to find Jake. Tell him the truth.
But what happens after that?
Will their love be strong enough?
Will Jake still want him, after what Felix said?
What they did?
What will the world say?
Felix stumbles out into the hallway, head spinning from the night's revelations…
...and straight into his mother.
"Oh!" she says, taking a step back. "Sweetheart… are you alright?"
Felix tries to speak. Tries to find the words. But the only sound he manages is a broken, hoarse gasp—until he finally whispers:
"Mom… I need to tell you something."