Eli woke up the next morning in his own bed, his head pounding as hard as if he had been an actual guest at the yacht party. As soon as he was awake enough to feel the pain, he groaned and threw a pillow over his head.

“Morning,” a voice called from behind the pillow. Eli lifted one corner and glared out of it.

“I’m still—“

“Upset, I know.” Ambrose leaned down to look at him. If he was also had a headache, he wasn’t showing it. “I didn’t sleep here, in case you were wondering. Gave you space. Just thought you might want a healing potion.”

“Does it taste better than that last one?”

“…No.”

Eli let the pillow fall back down and threw an arm over it to lock it down. “Then no thanks. I’ve gotten through hangovers before.”

“But not an icefall hangover.”

Eli paused. “Put it on the nightstand. I’ve got at least another hour of sulking to do while I try to forget that I pulled you out of the damn lake last night. Like some kind of…stupid blue fish who can’t swim…”

Something clinked on the nightstand, followed by a soft thunk. Eli peeked out once more to find a steaming mug beside the green vial. Whipped cream and sprinkles spilled over the top of the mug, melting slowly against the steam.

“Apologies, you can’t have coffee with the potion,” Ambrose said. Eli tilted his head to frown at him, and found that he was wearing his science t-shirt again.

An olive branch, he guessed.

“Not gonna work,” Eli scoffed. In one swipe, he took the potion, forced it down, gulped half the whipped cream, then retreated back into the sheets to make a face. As he curled inward, a weight sank into the far end of the bed.

“Does it help to know that I’ve received stern lectures from both Sherry and Grim this morning?”

Eli balled up the quilt and hugged it against himself, trying not to smile. “Maybe.”

“And that I also can’t drink coffee this morning?”

“Yes.”

“And that I truly am sorry about what happened last night?”

Eli’s half-smile faded. At first, he didn’t think it had bothered him so much- that he’d sleep heavily and forget all about it. But all through the night, he kept dipping into dreams filled with cold, and darkness, and fabric in his fingers. Sometimes the fabric wasn’t there, and he’d wake up with a start, trying to grasp at the last moments of the dream while his heart slammed into his ribcage.

“I don’t…” Ambrose let out a breath. “I don’t enjoy being in danger, or making people save me. I hate worrying them. I hate worrying you.” He reached out and placed a gentle hand on the shape of Eli’s ankle under the blanket. “But now that we have the icefall, I won’t need to do it again.”

Eli shoved off the pillow and sat up, his stomach still churning against the fading memories of his dreams. His voice came out more pleading than he intended. “You promise?”

Ambrose gave him a soft smile. “I promise.” He patted Eli’s ankle, then stood. “When you’re ready, Grim has some updates for us.”

“Alright.” Eli made an exaggerated frown as Ambrose turned for the door. “Excuse me?”

“Hm?”

“I ordered an apology kiss along with this hot cocoa.”

Ambrose rolled his eyes. “My God, what a Karen.”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” With a grin, he strode over, sat on the bed, and cupped Eli’s face with both hands. As he leaned in, his grin softened into something more earnest, and his lashes fluttered to look down at Eli’s lips.

Eli was melting before Ambrose even kissed him.

#

When Eli shuffled downstairs and saw what Ambrose had meant by updates from Grim, he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. Six folders had been placed neatly on the kitchen table, all but two of them accompanied by full, steaming coffees. Eli gave a grumble as he sat down at one of the coffee-less folders, while Sherry took a long, purposeful sip from her own mug.

“Did you have to brew it so it smelled extra nice this morning?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, throwing a pointed look in Ambrose’s direction. Ambrose sighed and took the seat next to Eli.

“Our enemies are lucky we don’t do torture, Sherry,” he said, then nodded to Grim across the table. “Ready to start if you are.”

“Can I peek?” Banneker lifted the corner of his folder. Grim placed a large hand on Banneker’s folder and met their gazes.

“Once the research handoff is done, I’ve arranged for us to leave the cabin three days after. New identification, temporary lodging, burner phones for your families. You’ll find all that information in your folders.”

They removed their hand from Banneker’s folder, the signal to open them up. Eli glanced through the pages—one-way ticket to Santa Barbara, the master’s application form—then immediately leaned over Ambrose’s shoulder to look at his information.

Another one-way ticket to Santa Barbara.

“Is that alright?” Ambrose half-closed the folder and touched his knee. “I don’t have to be in the same city if—“

Eli squeezed his hand, grinning as wide as he could. “Of course it’s alright. Do you have any idea how excited Dawn is going to be?”

As he happily drank in Ambrose’s smile, Banneker peered over Ambrose’s other shoulder.

“What city are you…” He frowned and did a double-take against his own folder. “Hold on. This says I’m going to Boulder.”

“Boulder?” Sherry’s head snapped up. “That can’t be right. I’m in Tuscon.”

For their size, Grim suddenly looked very small. “Folks, we talked about this. We can’t all be in the same city, it’s too much of a risk.”

Sherry gestured to Banneker. “I can’t be that far away from him! Who’s going to tell him not to wear a hawaiian shirt to his job interview?”

“Who’s gonna eat all the cookies she bakes?” Banneker pointed at Sherry. “And who’s gonna bother Ames?”

Sherry snatched Ambrose’s folder and gasped. “California? No. Grim, no.”

Banneker grabbed Grim’s folder, his reflexes far too fast for them to compete against. He read the first page and slapped it down. “Miami? You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

The table exploded after that.

“We were going to work in the same lab!” Sherry was crying now as she gestured to Ambrose. Ambrose was standing and pointing to his folder, his eyes shining.

“I can find us both a job in Santa Barbara, I know I can.”

“What about the package deal, huh?” Banneker sniffed back tears as he spoke to Grim. “What, you wanna—wanna—run away from me to Miami now?”

Grim’s lower lip trembled as they tried to keep their plan together. “I’m not running away, I—Banneker, you’ll love Boulder—“

“No, I won’t!” Banneker stood, his voice rising. “Because you’re not in it, and Sherry’s not in it, and Ames and Eli and Dawn aren’t in it!”

Somehow, Eli had found himself standing, too; one hand holding Ambrose’s tight, the other furiously wiping tears off his own cheeks. “Why don’t we all go to Santa Barbara?”

Grim passed both hands over their face. “We decided a long time ago that it would be too risky. That we’d split up after this is over, keep our distance for a few years.”

“For a few—?” Eli swallowed a lump in his throat and looked up to Ambrose, who was leaking tears despite his best efforts. “All due respect, Grim, I don’t think anyone gives a flying fuck about that anymore.”

Sherry, Banneker, and Ambrose nodded firmly.

Grim let out a ragged breath and ran a hand over their hair. “Fine. I’ll…I’ll see what I can do.”

Sherry collapsed back in her chair in relief. Ambrose squeezed Eli’s hand.

“Yes!” Banneker leapt to hug Grim. “Can we live on the same street? Same building? Can we all just go to Dawn’s place?”

“Dawn would murder us, Banneker.”

“She’d murder me last, though.”