The sound of Julia negotiating pizza toppings with... with our new charge fades down the corridor, leaving Quentin and me alone with the silence where Alice was. My heart is still pounding from my reckless proposal. Parenthood. Again. With a murderous god-child. What the hell am I thinking?

Quentin hasn't moved from where Alice disappeared into the wellspring. His shoulders are hunched, his whole body screaming exhaustion and grief. I've seen him like this before - after he lost his father, after we lost our son. That quiet devastation that makes me want to destroy whatever caused it and hold him forever at the same time.

I step closer, hesitating before placing my hand on his shoulder. He doesn't flinch away, which is something. Progress, maybe. In the wreckage of Blackspire, with the faint blue glow of Alice's new existence pulsing beneath our feet, maybe we can finally stop running from what we both want.

"Q," I say softly, not sure where to begin. "About what I said -"

He turns toward me, his face streaked with dried blood and tears. His eyes are red-rimmed behind his cracked glasses, but there's something alive in them I haven't seen in a long time. Something like hope, fragile as glass.

"You want to try again?" he asks, his voice breaking on the question. "After everything? After what happened to him?"

The ghost of our son hangs between us - bright, laughing, gone too soon. The wound is still raw, still bleeding. But maybe that's the point. Maybe only by facing this pain together can we ever hope to heal it.

"I want to try with you," I correct him, stepping into his space, letting him feel the certainty in my words. "Whatever that looks like. Even if it's raising a homicidal god-child who may or may not destroy us."

Quentin manages a weak laugh, the sound more like a sob. "Just a normal family, then."

"Exactly," I say, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his face, my fingers lingering on his cheek. "Our normal."

He leans into my touch, closing his eyes, and for a moment, we're just two men, not would-be gods or kings or saviors. Just two people who have loved and lost and somehow found each other again in the wreckage.

When he opens his eyes, there's a decision there. A choice. And I realize with sudden clarity that whatever he chooses, I'll follow.