Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTX1T9X32QQYJRP8NJE7NVT

The Raven's Nest was unusually quiet for a Friday night. Silas stood behind the bar, polishing glasses with practiced efficiency. His grey-streaked auburn hair caught the dim light as he moved. The familiar creak of the door announced a new arrival. "A pint of Guinness, please," a voice called out. Silas looked up, his hand pausing mid-polish. The woman at the bar had her back to him, but there was something about the way she carried herself that made his heart skip. The straight black hair falling to her shoulders. The way she drummed her fingers on the bartop. He set down the glass and walked over, each step measured and deliberate. "Guinness, you say? Haven't heard that order in a while." The woman turned, and Silas found himself staring into a pair of bright blue eyes that were achingly familiar. "Silas?" she breathed. "Aurora Carter," he said, the name feeling foreign on his tongue after all these years. "Or do you prefer Rory these days?" She gave a small, sad smile. "Rory's fine. It's been a long time, Silas." "Eleven years," he replied, pouring the dark beer with practiced ease. "Give or take. What brings you to my little corner of Soho?" Rory shrugged, her gaze fixed on the swirling foam of her pint. "Life, I suppose. It has a way of taking you places you never expected." Silas slid the glass across the bar. "You look good, kid. Different, but good." She took a sip, her eyes closing briefly as if savoring the taste. "You look the same. Well, older, but then again, so am I." "Old enough to know better," Silas said with a wry smile. He leaned against the bar, studying her face. The years had been kind to Rory, but there was a hardness around her eyes that hadn't been there before. A weariness that spoke of battles fought and lost. "I never thought I'd see you again," she said softly. "After... everything." Silas nodded, understanding the unspoken words. After the mission went sideways. After he'd disappeared from her life without a trace. After he'd failed her in more ways than one. "I'm sorry," he said simply. "For a lot of things." Rory looked up, her blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I looked for you, you know. For months. I thought... I don't know what I thought. That you'd be there, I guess. That you'd have some explanation for why you left." "I did have an explanation," Silas said quietly. "But it wouldn't have made a difference. Not then, and not now." She laughed, a bitter sound that held no joy. "You always were a stubborn bastard. Never one for apologies or explanations." Silas reached out, his hand hovering just above hers. "I'm here now. That has to count for something." Rory pulled her hand away, her fingers curling into a fist. "Is it? Because from where I'm standing, it feels like too little, too late." The words hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken history. Silas felt the weight of every missed moment, every opportunity lost. He'd spent years running from his past, but now it had caught up with him in the form of a woman he'd once called friend. "Tell me something, Silas," Rory said, her voice low and intense. "Did you ever think about me? After you left, I mean. Did you ever wonder what happened to me?" "Every day," he replied without hesitation. "I thought about you more than I care to admit. But I couldn't... I couldn't risk it. You were safer without me in your life." Rory's laugh was sharp and unforgiving. "Safer? Is that what you tell yourself? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you just left me to pick up the pieces of a life you shattered." Silas felt the sting of her words like a physical blow. He'd known this moment would come eventually, but he'd never been prepared for the raw pain in Rory's eyes. "I made a choice," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "A choice to protect you, even if it meant losing you forever. I'd make that choice again in a heartbeat." Rory shook her head, her hair falling across her face like a curtain. "You don't get to make that choice for me, Silas. You don't get to decide what's best for my life." "I know," he said softly. "And I'm sorry for that too. But I need you to understand, Rory. The things I've done, the things I've seen... they don't just go away. They follow you, haunt you, until you're not sure who you are anymore." She looked up then, her eyes searching his face. "Is that why you left? Because you were haunted?" Silas nodded, his throat tight with emotion. "I was drowning, Rory. In guilt, in regret, in the memories of every mission gone wrong. I thought I was protecting you by leaving, but in reality, I was just protecting myself." Rory reached out, her hand hovering over his. "You don't have to do this alone, Silas. You never did." The simple gesture broke through the walls Silas had built around his heart. He covered her hand with his own, feeling the warmth of her skin, the steady beat of her pulse.