Chapter Eleven

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Y/N's P.O.V

Peter and I didn't stop running until the city started sounding... normal again.

Traffic.

Voices.

Distant sirens.

Life.

We slowed to a stop somewhere along a busy street corner, both of us slightly bent over, catching our breath like we'd just outrun something that didn't belong in this world.

Which... we had.

For a second, neither of us spoke.

Then—

We started laughing.

Not small laughs.

Not polite laughs.

Full, breathless, slightly unhinged laughter.

The kind that spills out when your brain doesn't know what else to do with the fear.

"I cannot believe," Peter managed between laughs, "we almost got on that train."

I wiped at my eyes, still laughing. "I swear, I thought something with, like—floating eyeballs was gonna step out and ask for tickets."

That set him off again.

The cab driver we'd flagged down a few minutes earlier glanced at us through the rearview mirror like he was reconsidering every life decision that led him here.

Didn't help.

We laughed harder.

Because if we stopped—

We'd probably start thinking.

And that wasn't something either of us was ready for yet.

The ride back to headquarters was quiet.

The laughter faded into something softer.

Something heavier.

I stared out the window as the city blurred past, my reflection faint in the glass.

Everything looked the same.

But it didn't feel the same.

Not anymore.

Peter paid the fare when we arrived, and we stepped out onto the street in front of headquarters.

The building stood exactly as it always had.

Solid.

Safe.

Familiar.

I didn't realize how much I needed that until now.

We stepped inside.

Quiet.

Too quiet.

Ecto-1 was gone.

Janine wasn't at her desk.

The place felt... empty.

Peter glanced at me.

I glanced back.

No words needed.

We headed upstairs.

We ended up in Peter's office.

He grabbed us both water, and we sat.

Silence filled the room.

Not awkward.

Not exactly.

Just... heavy.

There was too much to unpack, and neither of us seemed ready to open that box just yet.

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