Ever since her last Quiet Box stay, her dreams had offered no rest, tainted with images of the demon horde or desperate nostalgia for a better time. She always woke up exhausted.

Tonight, Warren poured her favorite tea into a mug. The steam rose and drew dewy dimples on his face. He sat down, snuggled next to her on the couch, and she took the mug. The TV warbled nonsensical news, and Vanessa just nestled in further.

In this moment, she felt the overwhelming feeling of love, safety, and comfort she had been chasing her entire life. It drowned her in its simplicity. In its assertion. Like a weighted blanket.

He whispered something in her ear, but Vanessa couldn't quite hear it. She pulled back. "What?"

But, she couldn't hear her own voice either. The TV warbling only increased, and Warren's frantic mouthing motions spit out no words. Panic seized Vanessa and she screamed with no sound.

The TV warbling became sharper until it solidified into two squabbling voices.

Vanessa sat up straight, fantasy draining out of her mind only to be replaced by cold reality. Newel and Doren argued over the temperature, and she recognized the cadences as the voices that had interrupted her dream. Seth slept in the passenger side, immune to the satyr's loud voices.

"What's up, Vanessa?" Newel asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

She swallowed the stinging insults she wished to sling against the satyrs, pulled her sweaty skin off the leather upholstery, and opened the car door. "I just need some air."

The night air cooled her flushed skin, but it brought little comfort otherwise. The imminent end of the world, her imminent reunion with Warren, and the knowledge that she had screwed up the best thing she had ever had in her life sobered her.

—

Grease, engine oil, wrenches, and fuel exhaust. Vanessa felt like a mechanic again.

Their truck had broken down after one too many long nights of slamming the accelerator, but Vanessa knew exactly how to fix it. It refreshed her to have such a concrete, solvable problem in front of her, instead of the abstract doom that had haunted her lately.

Vanessa stared up at the underbelly of the truck, repairing the exhausted machinery. The satyrs had gone on a valiant mission to find a fast food restaurant. Seth crouched down beside her and handed her tools when she asked like a good mechanical assistant. Their sparse conversation consisted of various tool names and affirmatives until Seth stopped answering.

"Allen wrench?" Vanessa continued twisting off the cap and made grasping motions with her other hand to the outside. A few seconds later, she tried to poke Seth but couldn't find him. "Seth?"

Vanessa slid out from under the car, and found him on his haunches, staring into space. She waved a hand in front of his face, and spooked, his face snapped to her. "Sorry. I was just thinking."

She wiped her grease-stained hands on the towel beside her as she sat down on the ground. It was time for a break, anyway. "Care to share?"

"Well," Seth said. "You've done horrible things, right?"

Vanessa knit her eyebrows. "Is this conversation about me? In that case, yes. I have done things that many would consider horrible—including myself."

Seth pursed his lips. "I just—how do you face everyone again?"

Oh. Vanessa knew what this was about. "Seth, it wasn't your fault."

"Is that what you tell yourself?"

"No." Vanessa sighed as she leaned against the side of the truck. "It really was all my fault."

"What did you do? I mean, besides Fablehaven."

Vanessa considered the boy in front of her and what she should say. He was so young. "The details of my missions are unimportant. But, I hurt and killed many people, because unlike with Fablehaven, I succeeded every other time."

The admission took the breath out of her. It was difficult to assume the responsibilities of a self she had fractured and compartmentalized away.

Seth paused. "But, you're still here. With us."

Vanesa nodded. "Seth, you had good intentions when you healed Graulas. It was noble. Everyone can see that."

"That doesn't matter. I had a ticket to save everyone, and instead I made it so everyone is going to die." Seth frowned, his bottom lip trembling. He scrubbed his face with his sleeve. "I'm responsible for my family dying."

Vanessa hesitated, unsure of what to do. His shoulders hunched further in on themselves, and his eyes looked down, his mouth firmly in a line. She patted his shoulder, pausing a moment, before leaning forward and hugging him. He buried his head in her arms.

She stayed there, ruffling his hair, marveling at how tight he held onto her. His chest hiccuped slightly and if she felt her shirt dampen, well, no one needed to know. By the time the satyrs returned, the car would be fixed and everything would be fine. She plucked this moment out of the relentless march of time towards the end, and allowed it to be still, silent, and safe.

Minutes later, Seth's arms loosened around her, and Vanessa pulled back. She put one hand on his shoulder and another on his cheek, cupping the boy's face as he stared up at her. She saw her own grief and guilt mirrored in his eyes and spoke firmly. "Everyone makes mistakes. Especially in this line of work, where it's especially hard to know what's the right thing to do."

"Not everyone's mistakes cause the end of the world," Seth mumbled, misery coating his words.

"You're right. But ours do," Vanessa said. "Now, we just have to save it."

Vanessa had never imagined she would be involved in the end of the world—on either side. All she had desired as a kid, as a young agent, was to save the young blix pigeon-holed into hiding. She had never imagined this.

A smile peeked out of Seth's guilt at her bravado. "Easier said than done."

Vanessa laughed and patted his cheek. "True. But, the first step is to get back on the road." She pulled away and slid under the car again. "Allen wrench?"

—

Once they arrived at the Totem Wall, Seth retrieved Vasilis, the sword of light and darkness, without so much as a scratch to speak of. Now, with a sword she had always doubted actually existed lying in the truck bed, they crossed the border again, back into the United States.

From there, Vanessa and Seth flew out from Seattle, Washington into Charlotte, North Carolina, and then rented a car for the rest of the distance to Hatteras Island, South Carolina. Unable to take the dirt golem and goats on a plane, Vanessa let them take the pickup, five spare license plates, plenty of sleeping darts and a prayer that the truck would arrive intact.

Of course, it was the end of the world, so Vanessa tried not to worry about the state of her Toyota Tundra. But, god. She knew the suspension would be blasted after the satyrs' driving. She sighed. Sacrifices, sacrifices.

—

Once Vanessa and Seth got to Hatteras Island, they still had some time to kill while waiting for Hugo, Newel, Doren, Kendra, Warren, Trask, and the unicorn they traveled with to arrive.

In some ways, her and Seth's stint in the beach house was Vanessa's first vacation in a decade, but she spent it sleeping to catch up on the past few days of non-stop driving. Unfortunately, her sleep quality tanked due to her constant vivid dreams.

Warren haunted her in her mind, in her dreams, in her waking thoughts. As she thought of the incoming reunion, anxiety rolled through her. But, she would use the skills she had learned in her life and be calm, collected, and cool.

The Vanessa she needed right now.

Because soon, the rest of the party was set to arrive and the limbo preceding the end of the world would be over.