The safehouse felt lifeless, not quiet in a peaceful way, just empty. Rex hated it. He'd take screaming sirens or gunfire over this kind of silence any day.
Evelyn lay stretched out on the worn old couch, the blanket barely thick enough to keep her warm. Her skin looked like it had never seen sunlight. At least her breathing was even, but every time her chest moved, Rex squeezed Rebellion hard enough that his knuckles ached. He hadn't moved from his spot in the corner since she blacked out. He couldn't. He didn't trust himself to.
"Shut up, [V.E.R.G.I.L.]," he muttered.
The damn AI wasn't wrong. Annoying, but true.
Evelyn stirred under the blanket, slowly opening her eyes, as if she were fighting her way back from a long way down. "You look like hell," she croaked, her voice rough.
Rex snorted, unable to help it. "That's pretty funny coming from you."
She tried to sit up but failed spectacularly. Rex crossed the room quickly, placed a hand on her shoulder, and kept her down. "Yeah, not happening, doc."
She studied his face, looking for the usual smirk or smartass remark. There was nothing. He just felt...tired. Older somehow.
"You did it again," she whispered.
He frowned. "Did what?"
"Broke the world to fix yourself."
His fingers tightened on his sword's hilt. "I told the League to back off, or I'd blow everything up. Not literally. Maybe literally. Whatever."
"That's...dramatic," she said, rolling her eyes slightly.
"Yeah, but it's true."
Her hand found his, shaky but stubborn. "You don't have to be the devil all the time, Rex."
He let out a laugh—sharp, without any real joy. "Pretty sure that's all I know how to be."
She squeezed his hand tighter. "You're more than that. You're the only one who doesn't fake it. That's what freaks them out."
He looked at their hands, unable to stop his own from shaking.
"They think I'm losing it."
"Are you?"
He didn't answer. He didn't need to.
She just nodded. "You're not. You're angry, yeah. You're hurt. But lost? No. Not you."
Rex clenched his jaw. "You're my anchor, doc. That's not safe for you."
"Don't care."
He looked up and met her gaze. She meant it—she never lied about this.
"I won't lose you," he growled, low, like a promise and a threat mixed together. "I'll burn this whole cursed city down first."
She ran her thumb over his knuckles, gentle. "No need for fire, Rex. Just stand tall. That's enough."
For a moment, the wild, haunted look in his eyes softened. It didn't disappear, but it steadied, as if someone turned down the volume on the rage.
He leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers, close enough to feel her breath.
"I'm still a devil, Evelyn."
"I know."
"And devils don't get happy endings."
"Maybe not," she breathed, "but that doesn't mean you can't fight for one."
Outside, chaos kept raging. Sirens, screams, the whole city tearing itself apart. But in that battered safehouse, with blood on the tiles and lights buzzing overhead, Rex felt it—something reckless, something almost like hope. Strange, right? But real.