“She’s not the same,” Persephone had said one night after she’d asked Lexa if she wanted to join them in the living room to watch Titans After Dark. It wasn’t Persephone’s favorite, but she remembered how her best friend would light up when discussing the gritty details of the Primordial drama.

She hadn’t looked at Persephone when she’d answered with a quiet, “No.”

When she’d spoken in the kitchen, she’d mostly been talking to herself. It was her own attempt to process grief. Lexa might not have died, but they’d lost her either way.

“She was hit by a freaking car,” Jaison snapped. “She’s not going to bounce back.”

Persephone blinked, shocked by his anger.

“I know. I didn’t mean—”

“Maybe if you weren’t so wrapped up in your own problems, you’d see that.”

He stomped back to Lexa’s room without another word.

“He’s just upset,” Sybil said. “He knows she isn’t the same.”

“This mortal has distressed you,” Zofie said. “Do you want me to kill him?”

“What? No, Zofie. You can’t just kill people who upset you.”

The Aegis shrugged. “You can where I’m from.”

“Remind me to hide all your weapons,” Persephone said.

The tension remained throughout the next week. Persephone was glad to have an escape in the Underworld but made sure to check in with Lexa everyday—it became a new routine, a new normal. Wake up, check on Lexa, work, check on Lexa, Underworld.

She went on like that for weeks until one morning after returning from the Underworld, Persephone wandered into the kitchen and halted in her tracks.

Lexa was making coffee.

She stood in her pajamas, hair in a messy bun, and when she looked up at Persephone, she smiled. She looked...normal.

“Good morning,” she chimed.

“G-good morning,” Persephone said, a little suspicious.

“I thought you might like some coffee.”

“Yes,” Persephone said, and gave a breathy laugh. “I love coffee.”

Lexa laughed, filling a mug and pushing it toward her. “I know.”

Persephone cupped the drink between her hands. For a moment, she couldn’t move. She just stood there, staring awkwardly at Lexa.

She cleared her throat. “I...better get ready for work,” she said, reluctant to leave, afraid that if she did, she’d realize this was all just a dream.

Lexa offered a small smile again. “Lucky,” she said. “I would like to work again.”

“You will soon.”

Persephone made her way back to her room. As she did, she sipped the coffee Lexa had made and promptly spit it back into the cup. It was strong and bitter and thick.

Not like the coffee Lexa had made before the accident.

She’s trying, Persephone thought. That’s all that matters.

She’d drink a million cups of this coffee if it meant Lexa was healing.