He headed back inside anyway. As he wandered through the vacant rooms, the place felt like a ghost of itself; as if everything that had happened here had happened long ago, to other people. The kitchen table, where they’d talked and squabbled and even laughed occasionally. The firing range, where he’d made his first announcements as the lead and then spent hours training the team – saw them slowly come together, learning how to be actual AKs instead of just angel spotters with guns. I can be proud of that, he thought, gazing at the targets hanging motionless on their chains. No matter what, I can really be proud of that.

His bedroom.

Alex stood motionless against the doorway as he took it in. The room was full of Willow. He had a flash of her stealing in one morning: the look in her eyes as she’d slipped into bed with him; the smell of her as he’d brushed his lips against her neck. With a grimace, he shook the memory away. Okay, this had been a bad idea. He pushed himself off the door jamb – and then stopped, looking up at his shelf.

Willow’s necklace was still there, where he’d tossed it after finding it on the kitchen table. He deliberately hadn’t packed it today. Now he realized with grim certainty that this was what he’d come back for. Somehow, he couldn’t just leave it behind. Feeling more idiotic than ever, he shoved it in his pocket, cursing the memories attached to the thing. The way he felt about Willow seemed like a sickness now. He never wanted to be this in love again – it wasn’t worth it. But the necklace remained in his pocket.

He went back outside. “We’re ready,” he said tersely.

Kara nodded and reached for her keys; she was going to drive the van. As everyone started to climb in, Alex cleared his throat. “No, wait a second. Guys, listen...no matter what happens, I’m proud of you, okay? The way you’ve trained these last couple of months has just been amazing. You’re all good AKs now – really good. We can do this thing; every one of you has got what it takes.”

The group had gone very still as he spoke, varying expressions of shy pride on their faces. From the driver’s seat, Kara’s brown eyes met his. He had the sudden feeling she was thinking of his father, and the back of his neck warmed.

“Yeah, yeah, enough of the mushy stuff,” said Sam finally. “We love you too, you jerk. Now come on, let’s get the hell out of here and kill some angels.”

“Kill all angels,” corrected Liz firmly.

“Yup – kill ’em all. Yee-haw!” bellowed Sam to the van’s ceiling.