Gods & Mortals

...Klaus Walker. 

That name, alongside a select few, had echoed across humanity's consciousness for days. The revelation of the gods from Onyx Mythology, and the existence of others wielding celestial power, shattered the boundary between myth and reality. Relief and fear intertwined in the hearts of the masses, as they grappled with a truth that reshaped their understanding of the world. 

The gods, once relegated to ancient folklore spun by early civilizations, were real. Questions poured forth in an unrelenting tide, each one burning with urgency. But the answers were not so readily available. The only beings who could provide clarity were the demigods, and they had withdrawn from the public eye after their victory over the monstrous threats. 

Shade's eyes snapped open, the faint murmurs from outside his home clawing at his heightened sense of hearing. He sighed, his frustration palpable, and pushed himself out of bed. The morning ritual of a shower followed, though it did little to ease the tension he carried. 

Emerging from his room, Shade walked down the hallway, the wooden floor slightly creaking beneath his deliberate steps. Before he could descend the staircase, he paused, his gaze drawn to a door on his left. 

"Morning, brother," he whispered, his voice low and soft. He lingered for a moment longer, then turned away, heading down the stairs. 

The rhythmic sound of footsteps broke the quiet of the suburban street as Rose made her way toward her destination; the Walker residence. Weariness weighed on her, evident in the slump of her shoulders, but her eyes burned with unyielding determination. 

As she neared her destination, the sight of a cluster of humans stationed near the house gave her pause. Microphones and cameras were in their hands, their postures brimming with anticipation. She sighed, a flicker of exasperation crossing her face. 

"Still here, huh?" she muttered under her breath and pressed forward. 

The moment she was within range, the reporters spotted her. Their excitement surged, and they rushed toward her like a tidal wave. 

"Miss Valentine," one of them called out, thrusting his microphone toward her. "Would you care to..." 

But the words died in his throat. His hand dropped to his side, his face slack as though caught in a trance. Around him, the other reporters fell into a similar state, their eyes wide, their movements halting. 

Rose continued toward the house, her gaze fixed ahead, her eyes glowing with a vibrant pink light. It pulsed faintly, an unspoken command that silenced those who dared approach her. 

The group stood immobilized, their own eyes reflecting the same eerie pink glow. None dared to speak or move, captivated by the invisible force of Rose's charm. 

Rose reached the front door and knocked, the sound sharp and deliberate. A voice from inside granted her entry, and she stepped in without hesitation. 

The interior of the house was quiet, the air carrying a calm that contrasted the chaos outside. In the kitchen, Natalie stood with her back to Rose, her attention focused on the object in her hands. 

Rose's expression shifted instantly, a cheerful facade masking her irritation. "Hey, Natalie," she called out warmly, stepping into the room. 

Natalie turned at the sound of her name, her face lighting up in recognition. "Oh, good morning, Rose," she replied. "How are you today?" 

As Natalie moved, Rose caught sight of the microwave she was holding, her arms straining under its weight. 

Rose's eyes widened. "Woah," she exclaimed, darting forward. With ease, she lifted the microwave from Natalie's hands using only her right hand. "You don't need to be hauling something this heavy on your own, you know." 

Natalie laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. "Yeah, sorry about that," she admitted, her voice light with gratitude. 

Rose set the microwave down exactly where Natalie directed, stepping back as Natalie began speaking. "You know," Natalie said with a teasing smile, "sometimes I forget you're like them. Especially with that sleek physique and flawless skin." 

She leaned closer, her grin widening conspiratorially. "By the way," she whispered, "you HAVE to tell me your secret sometime." 

Rose blinked, flustered by the sudden compliment. A nervous laugh escaped her lips as a faint blush colored her cheeks. "Haha, well... I'm a demigod," she said, her tone light but truthful, as though that explained everything. 

Before the conversation could go any further, Shade's footsteps echoed down the stairs. 

"Morning, Mom," he said, his voice carrying a sleepy undertone as he scratched his torso. 

"Morning, dear," Natalie replied warmly. 

Shade's gaze landed on Rose briefly, offering a casual, "Hey, Rose," before his attention shifted to the new microwave now sitting on the counter. 

"Mom," Shade sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I told you I'd handle the microwave this morning." 

Natalie shrugged, her expression unapologetically cheerful. "But I didn't want to bother you," she said. "You already went out and bought it, and I know how much that darkness teleportation thing takes out of you." 

"Still, you didn't need to stress yourself over it," Shade replied, shaking his head. 

"Oh, it's fine," Natalie insisted with a wave of her hand. "Besides, Rose was here to help." 

"Barely," Rose whispered under her breath, prompting Natalie to shoot her a playful glare. 

"You traitor," Natalie gasped, her grin firmly in place. 

The three exchanged lighthearted banter until Natalie's attention abruptly snapped to the television. "Oh my!" she exclaimed, glancing at the clock. "It's almost time for the new episode of 'Keeping Up with the Darienettes!'" 

She moved swiftly to the couch, snatching the remote from the table. "Oh, and honey," she called to Shade, "your food's on the counter. Rose, yours too." 

Natalie settled onto the couch, her focus shifting entirely to the screen. 

Rose, however, approached Shade, her earlier cheer softening into concern. "How's he?" she asked quietly. "Any luck since last night?" 

Shade's expression grew heavy. He didn't need to ask who she meant. "What do you think?" he muttered after a sigh, his voice low. 

Rose sighed, mirroring his somber tone. "It's been a whole month," she said, her worry evident. "I'm really starting to get concerned." 

Shade studied her for a moment before speaking. "Is that why you haven't been sleeping?" he asked suddenly. 

Rose blinked, caught off guard. For a moment, her composure threatened to slip, but she held her ground, her expression betraying nothing. "What are you talking about?" she asked evenly, her tone measured and calm. 

Shade frowned slightly but chose not to push further, noticing its futility. "Never mind," he murmured, brushing the subject aside.

Afterward, Shade walked to the kitchen counter to retrieve his breakfast. His eyes caught on something familiar yet bittersweet: three plates, neatly arranged. His expression softened, knowing this was now a daily routine. Natalie had been preparing three plates for weeks, despite the reality they all faced. 

Without a word, he picked up one plate, leaving another for Rose, who followed suit. Together, they walked to the couch and sat beside Natalie, the hum of the television filling the room as they ate in quiet companionship. 

When Shade finished his meal, he stood and carried his plate back to the kitchen. After rinsing it clean, his gaze lingered on the third plate still sitting on the counter. He stared at it for a moment, his jaw tightening as he considered it, then picked it up and headed toward the stairs. He already knew why it was there. 

His footsteps were slow but deliberate as he walked down the hallway, finally stopping in front of a door, the same door he'd glanced at earlier that morning. Klaus' room. 

Shade exhaled deeply, steadying himself. He moved closer, placing the fresh plate on a small table by the door. His hand lingered briefly before he reached for another plate sitting there, its contents untouched. The food on it was cold and stale, evidence that it had been prepared the day before. 

Shade stared at the uneaten meal, the weight of futility pressing down on him. Still, he understood. This was Natalie's way of holding on, her way of showing love to someone who wasn't ready, or able, to reciprocate right now. He didn't question her actions, no matter how futile they seemed. He only wished for one thing: for things to go back to the way they were. 

Carrying the old plate, Shade descended the stairs, his mind heavy. But as he stepped onto the last stair, a voice he hadn't heard in what felt like ages echoed in his head. 

"Hey, Shade," the voice began, clear and familiar. "Can you hear me?" 

Shade froze mid-step, his eyes widening in surprise. "Hey, Quinn," he replied silently, recognizing the telepathic connection.

CONVERSATION

Quinn: How've you been?

Shade: I'm okay. It's been a while, hasn't it?

Quinn: It really has.

Shade was surprised that Quinn chose to communicate telepathically with him that day, raising his concern about the reason.

Shade: So what's up? What's the occasion?

Quinn: Well, actually, I'm kinda organizing a meeting at my place for those of us whose identities are public.

Shade was surprised by Quinn's statement and curious about her objective.

Shade: Is there any particular reason you have in mind?

Quinn: Sort of. I basically just want to talk about what we should do regarding the situation with humanity. If it's not a problem for you.

Shade: Sure, why not?

Shade saw the potential value in addressing the situation, especially after considering the struggles it brought to his family.

Quinn: Great. Also, since I can sense that Rose is nearby, could you please inform her as well?

Shade: Yeah, no problem.

Quinn: Nice, thanks.

After Quinn's brief message, a silence lingered for a few seconds, heavy with unspoken tension. Finally, she broke it. "Well... I guess I'll be awaiting your arrival," she said, her voice carrying a hint of awkwardness. 

"We'll be there soon," Shade assured her before the telepathic connection severed, leaving him alone with his thoughts. 

Shade considered the exchange carefully. Quinn hadn't mentioned Klaus once, which likely explained her momentary hesitation. It struck him that she might already know his answer—perhaps this was her way of respecting unspoken boundaries. 

After informing Rose about Quinn's request, the two began preparing for their departure to the Atlas residence. Link soon sent them the location, and Shade took a moment to notify Natalie of his plans. 

"I'm heading out, Mom," he said. "Not sure when I'll be back." 

Natalie glanced at him briefly before nodding, her calm demeanor unwavering. "No problem," she assured him. "Just be careful out there, both of you." With that, she returned her focus to the television, her trust evident in her casual tone. 

With everything set, Shade and Rose departed. Initially, Rose used her Love Charm ability to ward off the crowd of reporters and onlookers that had been tailing them, eager for answers. Her glowing pink eyes kept most at bay, but as their numbers swelled, the tactic became less effective. Shade and Rose refrained from using force, and the persistence of the crowd made their journey increasingly cumbersome. 

Eventually, they reached their destination; a towering, ornate gate that marked the entrance to the Atlas residence. The sheer scale of the estate was daunting, with fences stretching far beyond what the eye could see. The luxurious design of the gate alone spoke volumes about the wealth and grandeur awaiting beyond. 

As they approached, the gate began to open automatically. However, before the crowd of reporters could follow, a cold, artificial voice boomed from an audio system nearby. The message was stern and unyielding, warning trespassers that entering the property uninvited would result in consequences far beyond their comprehension. 

The ominous warning worked; the crowd froze in place, murmuring nervously. None dared take another step forward. Taking advantage of the sudden reprieve, Shade and Rose stepped through the gate and followed the paved trail that wound through the sprawling grounds. 

After a short walk, they arrived at the main house, a stunning structure that seemed almost too extravagant to be real. They were greeted and guided inside, eventually reaching a spacious room where Quinn, Link, and Trent were already waiting. 

"Oh, nice," Quinn said, smiling as the pair entered. "You both made it." 

"You already knew that," Rose quipped, her tone playful as she and Shade sat on a nearby couch. Her eyes darted around the room in awe. "Also... wow. I've never seen a house like this before." 

"Thank you," Quinn replied with a smirk. "Even though, technically, it's not mine." 

Shade scanned the room, noting the absence of certain individuals. "Where are Ace and X?" he asked, though he already knew the whereabouts of one missing member. 

"It's just us for now," Quinn admitted. "I haven't been able to reach the others." 

Shade was caught off guard, slightly confused by Quinn's words. "Wait, I thought your telepathy had essentially infinite range?" he asked.

"It does," Quinn explained. "But I only connect with people who are willing to be contacted. If I try and the connection doesn't work at surface level, I don't push further. That would be an invasion of privacy." 

Shade nodded thoughtfully. "I guess that's fair," he said, realizing this likely applied to Klaus as well.

"Can we start already?" Link interjected, his frustration evident even through the digital display on his mask. A digital frown flashed across the screen as he crossed his arms. "I've got an online tournament in a few minutes." 

"I thought you got benched because of the controversy, friend," Trent chimed in innocently, tilting his head as if genuinely curious. 

Link froze, his display flickering with a flat line of disbelief before he groaned. "Dude!" he chanted. "They didn't need to know that." 

Quinn smirked, her sharp gaze sliding to Link. "I'll start as soon as you stop talking, Lincoln," she quipped, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm. 

The irritation on Link's mask shifted to an exaggerated grimace. "It's too early for your sass, Quinn," he said after a sigh. "And also, you do remember I'm older by a few seconds, right?"

"And for the six hundred and fourth time, I am aware," Quinn replied.

Their banter drew a quiet chuckle from Trent, but it dissolved as Quinn's demeanor shifted, her focus returning to the matter at hand. "Alright, moving on," she said, her voice calm but commanding. 

The room stilled as she began. "As I explained earlier, I called this meeting because we need to address our identities and what we're going to do moving forward." 

She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. "It's been over a month since the Human Extinction crisis. Naturally, people are far from calm about it." 

Her tone softened as her gaze landed on Shade and Rose. "But my immediate concern is the two of you," she said, stepping closer to them. "That's why I wanted to propose something: would you both consider moving into some of the guest homes here? Bring your mothers as well." 

Shade and Rose exchanged a surprised glance as Quinn elaborated. "We have plenty of vacant guest houses around this property," she continued. "You wouldn't be inconveniencing anyone, and we'd cover all your living expenses. Food, necessities, everything." 

Her sincerity was evident in her steady gaze. "I know your current homes aren't as secure as ours. I don't want to risk anything terrible happening to you or your families because of this situation." 

A heavy silence followed as Shade and Rose processed her offer. It wasn't a bad idea, far from it. But the decision wasn't as simple as it seemed. 

Finally, Shade broke the silence. "While I agree that the situation has been a pain," he said carefully, "it's not that easy for me." 

Rose nodded, her tone measured but thoughtful. "I understand the logic behind your offer, Quinn. It's generous, and I know it's probably the best option for us. But I can't see myself leaving my home unattended. Not right now." 

Shade glanced at Rose briefly before adding, "Same here. Especially with Klaus' current state of mind." 

He met Quinn's eyes directly, his voice steady but pointed. "But you already knew this would be our response, didn't you?"

Quinn exhaled softly, her shoulders drooping slightly as she absorbed their responses. She had anticipated this reaction but felt compelled to make the offer anyway. 

"In Shade's case, I get that he didn't have much of a choice," Link interjected suddenly, his tone edged with frustration. "But I still don't understand why you, Rose, chose to step into the spotlight by associating with them publicly." 

Rose turned toward him, her expression calm yet firm. "I know you went to great lengths online to ensure every other demigod stayed incognito, Link," she began, her voice steady. "And I'm sorry that your efforts regarding me fell apart. But like Quinn, I couldn't just sit back and watch you all carry our cross in silence." 

"Cross?" Link questioned, confused by her analogy. 

Before the exchange could deepen, Quinn raised a hand to interject. "Regardless," she said, steering the conversation back on track, "I think it's time we consider addressing the nature of our existence; publicly, to some extent. It might help alleviate the strain you two have been under for weeks." 

"You mean... answering their questions?" Trent asked, his brow furrowed. 

"Exactly," Quinn confirmed. "Like Rose said, it's unfair to leave everything to you and Shade while the rest of us remain sheltered." 

Shade leaned back slightly, his skepticism evident. "I get the logic, but it won't be that simple," he said after a moment. "Every answer will just lead to another question. It could turn into an endless cycle." 

"True," Quinn admitted, "but offering them something, anything, might help. At least it's better than total silence, don't you think?" 

Shade remained quiet for a few beats before sighing. "I'll give it a shot," he said, though his tone carried hesitation. "But I can't make any promises. Those reporters camped outside my house are driving me insane." 

"Understandable," Quinn replied, her tone empathetic. She knew the enormity of what she was suggesting. 

As the conversation shifted, Quinn proposed they stay and catch up. It had been too long since the group had shared a moment like this. Shade and Rose exchanged a glance before agreeing.

For hours, the five of them reminisced, joking and sharing updates about their lives since the crisis. Laughter filled the room, a rare reprieve from the tension that had gripped them for weeks. 

But as evening melted into night, Shade's thoughts inevitably drifted home. His expression grew distant, drawing Rose's attention. 

"You're worried about Natalie, aren't you?" she asked softly. 

"Of course," Shade admitted. "I left her there all alone." 

"Come on, you know Sol is protecting her from any possible inconveniences," Rose reassured him. "She's fine." 

Shade nodded, acknowledging the truth in her words. Yet the unease lingered. He had been cloistered at home for weeks, grappling with humanity's relentless curiosity and his own spiraling thoughts. This outing, brief as it was, reminded him of what it felt like to breathe. 

Eventually, night fully embraced the sky, and it was time to leave. After exchanging goodbyes, Shade and Rose began their trek back to the Walker residence. The cover of darkness helped shield them from prying eyes, though a few persistent reporters still managed to find them as they approached the house. 

Microphones were thrust toward them, voices clamoring for answers. Cameras flashed, desperate to capture even a fragment of their lives. 

Standing at the door, Shade paused. Quinn's suggestion flickered in his mind, reminding him that offering even a small piece of information might make the relentless attention more manageable.

After Rose entered the house, Shade lingered by the door, glancing over his shoulder at the gathering crowd. The weight of their expectant stares pressed against him, and he exhaled slowly before stepping back onto the porch. 

"I'll try to answer a few questions," he said, his voice measured but loud enough to cut through the buzz. 

A ripple of activity surged through the crowd. Microphones and cameras were thrust toward him, flashes illuminating the night as overlapping voices clamored for his attention. The questions came in a chaotic torrent, each competing for dominance. Shade raised his hand slightly, trying to signal for order as he sifted through the barrage of questions.

"Mr. Walker!" a voice finally rose above the others, prompting a brief hush. "What purpose were you demigods created for exactly?" 

The air stilled as others quieted, seemingly as curious as the asker. Shade froze under the weight of their anticipation, his eyes darting between faces and lenses. 

"Uh..." he stammered, shifting uncomfortably. "I'm... not exactly sure how to answer that." 

Disappointed murmurs rippled through the crowd, but another question quickly broke through.

"What about the afterlife?" an older voice asked, drawing immediate attention. "If the gods exist, can you tell us if our loved ones, or the good ones we've lost, are truly in a better place?"

The collective silence that followed was suffocating. Shade's chest tightened as all eyes bore into him. His mind raced, but he had no answers to offer on such a profound and critical topic.

"I..." He hesitated before continuing. "Does anyone have simpler, less morality-testing questions?"

The crowd erupted into mutters again, frustration and disappointment palpable. After a brief pause, another voice called out. 

"Why were we attacked by those monsters? And what are you so-called demigods doing to stop it from happening again?" 

Shade tensed. Each question felt heavier than the last, their complexities far beyond what he was equipped to handle. He wanted to answer, needed to, but every word he considered felt insufficient, potentially disastrous if misunderstood or twisted. 

Finally, he sighed. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "but I don't know how to answer that as well." 

His words fell like a lead weight among the crowd. Faces darkened with frustration, and voices began to rise again. 

"Is there anything at all you DO know?" someone called out angrily, prompting an approving rumble from the others. 

Inside the house, Rose stood just beyond the door, her brow furrowed in concern as she listened to the escalating tension outside. Her fists clenched as she debated intervening. The crowd's frustration was mounting, and she could hear their demands becoming more forceful. 

"We need answers!" several voices shouted in unison. 

"Maybe we should just ask someone else," another person suggested bitterly. 

The suggestion sparked murmurs of agreement. Rose's heart sank as she realized the pressure Shade was under.

"How about we ask the other girl?" someone in the crowd suggested, their voice cutting through the murmurs.

"Or what about the other boy in there?" another chimed in, drawing immediate attention. "The one who hasn't been out in weeks."

"Yeah," others agreed eagerly. "If you don't have anything to tell us, we'll just ask him instead."

Shade tensed, his head lowering slightly as he placed a hand against his temple, trying to steady his rising frustration. "You can't," he said quietly, though his voice carried a sharp edge. "He's not... available right now."

Shade felt overwhelmed by the noise and constant demands from the crowd. But the crowd wasn't satisfied. Their desperation for answers only grew, their voices rising in intensity.

"Then how about we go inside ourselves and ask him directly?" a man in the crowd proposed, his tone bold and brazen. "Maybe that way, we'll finally get the answers we deserve."

Suddenly, the air seemed to shift after the man's words. Shade's head lifted slowly, his eyes locking onto the man who had spoken. A cold, unyielding rage flashed in his gaze, and it was so sudden, so fierce, that it silenced everyone in an instant. The crowd froze under the weight of his glare, an unexplainable dread settling over them.

"If you," Shade began, his voice low but laced with undeniable fury, "or anyone else here... dares to step foot into this house, or so much as think about bothering my mother or brother... I promise you, it will be the last thing you ever do in this world."

His words hung heavy in the air, the divine authority behind them unmistakable. The crowd didn't dare move or speak. Shade's presence, for that brief moment, seemed otherworldly, and his warning left no room for doubt.

With a final glare, Shade turned and stormed toward the house, slamming the door behind him. The gathered humans stood in stunned silence, unable to process the encounter immediately.

Inside, Shade leaned against the closed door, his breathing ragged as he tried to collect himself. Rose stood nearby, watching him with a mix of concern and understanding.

"You okay?" she asked softly, her voice pulling him from his thoughts.

Shade exhaled deeply, his shoulders easing as he softened his expression. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, though a trace of weariness lingered in his tone. "Where's Mom?"

"Upstairs," Rose said, her concern evident but choosing not to press further.

Shade nodded, relieved that Natalie hadn't been downstairs to witness his outburst. He made his way up the stairs to check on her, but before he reached her room, she appeared in the hallway, holding two small containers in her hands.

"Oh, Shade, you're back," Natalie said with a warm smile as she spotted him.

"Yeah," he confirmed, his voice steadying as he saw her.

"Is Rose still here?" she asked, her tone casual.

"She is," Shade replied. "She's downstairs."

Natalie's smile widened. "Good," she said, lifting the containers in her hands. " Because I need her opinion on these skin creams. Gotta make sure they're ideal for my skin type."

With that, she headed down the stairs, leaving Shade standing there, momentarily stunned by her lightheartedness. He blinked, then let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. Despite everything, Natalie's spontaneous personality remained intact, and it was a small, comforting reminder of normalcy.

However, his moment of reprieve didn't last long. As the hallway fell silent again, Shade's gaze slowly drifted toward the door on his right; Klaus' room. His brief smile faded, replaced by the weight of unspoken worries as he stared at the door, unmoving.

Shade lingered by Klaus' door, his eyes fixed on it before they dropped to the small table beside it. The plate he had left there earlier, untouched as always, had been replaced by a fresh, steaming meal. He didn't need to guess who had done it; his mother's quiet act of love, one she had been repeating for weeks despite never receiving a response. 

With a soft sigh, Shade lowered himself to the floor in front of the door, leaning his back against it. The cool wood pressed against him as he stared at the opposite wall, his expression distant. For a moment, he simply sat there, letting the silence settle around him like a heavy blanket.

"Hey, Klaus," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know if you can hear me, or if you even care to, but I hope you're okay in there."

He fell silent, running a hand through his hair, his fingers catching on the occasional tangle. "The crowd outside... they're relentless," he added after a beat, a faint, weary smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "They almost ate me alive out there. Barely made it back in one piece."

The smile didn't last long. It faded as his gaze dropped to the floor, his voice softening. "Things have been less than ideal if I'm being honest," he admitted. "Mom and I are trying, but it's... it's hard without you, brother."

Shade tilted his head back, eyes fixing on the dim light above him. "I miss you, man. More than you know."

The silence stretched again, his thoughts swirling in the quiet. Finally, Shade pushed himself to his feet. He cast one last glance at the door, his expression unreadable, before turning and making his way downstairs.

In the living room, Natalie was seated on the couch, her attention on the glowing screen of the television. She looked over as Shade entered, her smile warm. "Calling it a night, honey?"

"Yeah," Shade replied, pausing by the doorway. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Natalie said, her voice soft. "Rose is in the dining room, by the way."

"Okay. Thanks, Mom," Shade said, his lips twitching into a brief smile before he turned toward the dining room.

Entering the dining room to say goodnight, Shade's steps slowed as his gaze fell on Rose. She was slumped over the countertop, her head resting on her arms, her breathing steady. She was asleep. 

Shade's chest tightened. The weariness in her posture confirmed what he'd already suspected; she wasn't sleeping well. He knew her worry for Klaus was weighing heavily on her, just as it was on him. It frustrated him, seeing her so drained, but he understood all too well why she couldn't let it go.

Quietly, he approached and gently tapped her shoulder. Rose stirred with a startled jolt, her eyes snapping open. "Y-Yeah?" she murmured groggily, blinking up at him.

Shade didn't speak, his expression soft yet filled with unspoken concern. It only took Rose a moment to understand. She straightened, rubbing at her eyes as she stretched. "I fell asleep, didn't I?" she asked, her voice sheepish.

Shade nodded, his silence answering for him. 

"I was just... tired from today," Rose said, forcing a smile. "It's no big deal."

Shade didn't press her. He knew she was trying to downplay it, and he chose not to push her into admitting what they both already knew. After gathering her things, Rose said her goodbyes to Shade and Natalie, her smile unwavering despite the exhaustion in her eyes. 

As the door closed behind her, Shade let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head. "You worry a bit too much," he muttered, his voice low. "And coming from me, that's saying something."

Turning away, Shade headed upstairs to his room. The quiet of the house enveloped him as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.