Gabriel woke slowly, held in place by warmth.

The world around him was muted, wrapped in a quiet that didn’t feel hostile. His cheek rested against soft fabric, the steady rhythm of breath and heartbeat beneath him grounding and real. Leonardo’s chest rose and fell beneath his own, the sound of sleep soft in his ear. For a moment, Gabriel didn't move, eyes half-lidded, unwilling to break the calm just yet.

He didn’t want to move. The Hollow around them was silent, but not in the eerie, distorted way it had been days earlier. No warping static. No invisible pressure brushing at the edge of his mind. Just stillness. No birdcalls. No shifting branches. Even the air hung in place like glass.

Wrong. And yet… peaceful.

Gabriel blinked slowly and lifted his head, only slightly. Leonardo’s face remained relaxed, his features softer in sleep than Gabriel had ever seen them. His lashes cast faint shadows on his cheeks. The corners of his mouth were unguarded. Human.

Gabriel didn’t usually stare. But he let himself now.

This was the same man who had tackled monsters without flinching, who could cross a battlefield in seconds. The one who flirted like it was a language, teased like it was instinct. And still, he’d held Gabriel like this all night without asking anything in return.

His arms were heavy around Gabriel’s waist, anchoring him. His body had shielded Gabriel from the cold, from the ache of being alone in a place like this.

Gabriel’s fingers moved without thinking, brushing a fold of Leonardo’s jacket near his collarbone. The fabric was warm to the touch. Familiar now.

He shouldn’t feel this safe. Not here. Not like this. But with Leonardo… something inside him had stopped bracing for impact.

He let himself linger just a few moments longer.

Eventually, Leonardo stirred beneath him. His body shifted with a quiet inhale. A hand slid along Gabriel’s back, not urgent, just steadying.

“Mmm,” he murmured. His voice was scratchy, half-asleep. “You’re still here.”

Gabriel smiled. “You sound surprised.”

Leonardo cracked one eye open, gaze bleary. “Didn’t think you’d survive the night without rolling off the branch.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Leonardo exhaled and stretched slightly beneath him, the movement coaxing a faint creak from the branch. “You’re surprisingly heavy for someone built like a stick.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes but didn’t move away yet. “And you’re basically a furnace. You should be grateful I didn’t cook breakfast on your chest.”

Leonardo smirked, more awake now. “I’m almost disappointed. I was hoping for eggs.”

Gabriel shook his head and finally shifted off him, careful on the narrow branch. They descended slowly, one after the other, hands brushing bark and boots finding careful purchase on the tree’s uneven limbs. The ground met them gently, the mist thinning but still present.

Nothing stirred.

While Leonardo gave the area a wide scan, Gabriel unpacked two ration bars from his belt pouch. They regrouped near the base of the tree, settling onto a root thick enough to sit on. Their shoulders touched lightly.

They ate in silence, chewing slowly.

“Did I snore?” Gabriel asked after a while, without looking up.

Leonardo raised an eyebrow. “No. But you do talk in your sleep.”

Gabriel froze mid-bite. “What did I say?”

A list of possibilities raced through his mind, none of them good. Had he said something embarrassing? Something about Leonardo? His face burned.

Leonardo leaned back against the trunk, clearly enjoying himself. “Something about a broken compass. Or possibly soup. I wasn’t sure.”

Gabriel groaned and covered his face with his hand. “Fantastic.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t record it.”

Gabriel gave him a light swat with the back of his hand. “If you did, I’d have to throw you off the next tree.”

Leonardo grinned. “You’re welcome to try.”

Their laughter was quiet, but it felt full, like a crack in the Hollow had finally let light through.

But beneath the laughter, the Hollow remained. Gabriel felt it in the edges of his mind, a silence too deep, too knowing. So when he turned and resumed the morning scan, his movements were automatic, practiced. He needed the routine. Something to do. Something to keep the uncertainty at bay.

Gabriel moved without fully thinking, scanning the area in slow, deliberate arcs. After days of repetition, the motions had become routine, futile, even. But habits had a way of filling the silence. He paused by a gnarled root, adjusting the comm unit dangling from his belt. The Hollow still pulsed with that strange hush, the kind of quiet that didn’t feel restful, only wrong. It reminded him of the breath held before a scream. Or maybe just before a storm.

Still, he tapped the device to life.

Static answered. Familiar, grating.

He exhaled through his nose, already reaching to shut it off.

Then... something shifted.

Not a sound exactly, more like the absence of it. The low whine dropped out. A soft click replaced it. Sharp, artificial. Digital.

He frowned and looked down. The screen blinked.

No error message. No scramble. Just a clear, quiet blip. Followed by another.

Then a sound. Small. Crackling.

Gabriel went still.

His thumb trembled slightly as he re-centered the signal. A soft glow pulsed along the edge of the comm’s interface. The transmission bar, long dormant, filled one notch. Then another.

And then...

“…Team S&A. Gabriel? Leonardo? We’ve got your signal. Stay put.”

His breath hitched.

At first, he thought it was another loop. He’d heard broken messages before, fragments caught in static, echoes with no source. But this was different.

It came again, stronger.

“Leo? Gabe? This is Team S&A. We’ve got your coordinates. Do not move. Stay where you are.”

The words struck like a rush of cold water to the chest. Gabriel nearly dropped the device. His hand closed tighter, knuckles white, but his grip faltered just enough for the comm to tilt. He caught it, barely, arms stiff.

Leonardo turned from where he knelt adjusting the heat module. “Gabriel?”

Gabriel didn’t answer.

He was staring at the screen like it had grown teeth or wings, something unnatural, something impossible. But there it was. Transmission confirmed. Voice channel green. Authentication sequence passed.

His voice came out ragged. “It’s them.”

Leonardo rose instantly, crossing the space in two strides. “What do you mean ‘it’s them’?”

Gabriel held out the comm, unable to look away from it. “Team S&A. They found us. I don’t know how, but... they did. The signal’s clean. Full confirmation. It’s real.”

Leonardo took the device, jaw set, eyes narrowing as he scanned the feed. The screen blinked again, and for a moment, Gabriel thought he saw his expression soften, but only for a second. Then the skepticism returned.

But Gabriel wasn’t looking anymore. He’d taken a step back, just enough to brace himself. His heart raced in his throat. His hands were shaking harder now. Not from fear. From something else entirely.

Hope.

A kind he hadn’t let himself feel since the moment the Hollow swallowed them whole.

Another voice filtered through the static, clearer now.

“Gabriel? Leonardo? Respond if you can hear us.”

Gabriel swayed slightly, steadied himself.

He wanted to laugh. Or sob. Or fall to his knees. Instead, he just looked at Leonardo, eyes shining in disbelief.

“They really found us,” he whispered, barely audible.

But Leonardo wasn’t smiling.

Not yet.

And the set of his shoulders said one thing clearly: something doesn’t feel right.

Leonardo didn’t speak right away.

He studied the comm unit with that particular stillness that Gabriel had come to recognize, not the casual, cocky stillness of someone at ease, but the calculated kind. The kind that came before a decision. Before a shift.

Gabriel’s pulse quickened. “They told us not to move,” he said, voice low. “Said they’ve got our location.”

Leonardo didn’t look up. “Signal’s clean.”

Gabriel blinked. “Isn’t that good?”

Leonardo’s index tapped once against the edge of the device. “Too clean. No static. No bounce. No fragmentation, no echo. Like it was waiting for us to turn the unit on.”

Gabriel frowned. “But maybe… maybe the zone shifted again. Maybe we finally moved into range.”

“Maybe,” Leonardo said flatly. But his eyes were sharp. Focused. The kind of focus that had pulled them out of traps and false terrain more than once.

Gabriel stepped in closer. “We’ve had nothing for so long. No pings. No traces. No warmth. Just static and noise, and now…”

He hesitated. Then softer, more personal. “Leo, what if it’s real this time?”

Leonardo’s eyes flicked up at the sound of his name, and for a beat, his suspicion wavered.

A slow smile curved at the edge of his mouth. “Leo?”

Gabriel froze. His brain caught up half a second too late.

Heat prickled behind Gabriel’s ears and his stomach dropped. What did I just say? The nickname hung in the air like a spark he couldn’t take back, lighting up everything inside him in the worst possible way. His mouth opened, then closed. Heat crawled up his neck.

“I didn’t… That just slipped out,” he muttered, ears already turning pink as he averted his gaze. “Sorry.”

Leonardo’s smile widened, clearly enjoying himself now. “You sure? Didn’t sound like an accident.”

“It was,” Gabriel said too quickly.

“You said it real soft,” Leonardo added, voice low and deliberately thoughtful, like he was analyzing a rare piece of intel. “Real fond. Almost like you meant it.”

“I didn’t,” Gabriel lied, breath hitching.

“Hmm.” Leonardo tilted his head, the teasing more apparent now. “So if I ask you to say it again, would you melt or combust?”

Gabriel groaned, hiding half his face behind one hand. “Please don’t.”

Leonardo let out a quiet laugh, low and warm and too amused. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop.” A beat. “For now.”

Then, without missing a beat, his voice softened. “You can call me that. I like how it sounds when you say it.”

Gabriel swallowed. His heart pounded in his chest, too loud, too close. His skin felt like it buzzed.

“…Okay,” he said at last, barely above a whisper.

Leonardo looked at him a moment longer, still smiling, but now with something steadier behind it. Amusement faded into something quieter.

Then the smile slipped. “But don’t let the signal distract you,” he said, more serious now. “It’s too easy. Too convenient. That’s the part I don’t like.”

Gabriel didn’t argue, but he also didn’t step back. “It could be that they’ve been trying this whole time and couldn’t get through. This place twists everything.”

Leonardo gave a slow nod. “It does. But the Hollow doesn’t hand out clean connections. Not without cost.”

Gabriel shifted his grip on the comm. “We can’t ignore it.”

“I didn’t say we would.”

Gabriel looked up again.

Leonardo’s tone softened. “We’ll move. But we stay sharp. No rushing. No assumptions. If this is real, it won’t vanish. And if it’s not...”

“We’ll know,” Gabriel said, finishing the thought.

Leonardo nodded once. “Exactly.”

Gabriel let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Leonardo reached out and lightly touched his elbow. Not to pull him back or push him forward.

Just a point of contact. Quiet, steady. Anchor-like.

And then, softer. “You’re allowed to hope. Just don’t let it blind you.”

Gabriel glanced down at Leonardo’s hand, then back up.

“I won’t,” he promised.

But the glimmer in his eyes said he already did.

The comm hissed softly again.

Gabriel’s grip faltered again, and he clutched the comm tighter. His breath catched in his throat as a familiar voice cut through the air, clear, unmistakable.

“Gabriel. This is Sasha. We see you. Hold your position.”

His grip tightened. It wasn’t just a voice, it was him. Sasha’s warmth. His calm authority. The way he always sounded like things would be alright, even when they weren’t. Gabriel blinked rapidly, barely breathing.

Another voice followed, threaded through the faint buzz of stabilizing frequency:

“Leonardo. Gabriel. This is Natalia. You’re both alive.”

Gabriel’s knees gave slightly. He sank into a crouch without realizing it, one hand braced against the ground as if to tether himself. The damp soil pressed cool against his fingertips, grounding, but not enough.

It wasn’t mimicry.

It wasn’t false hope.

The Hollow could twist shadows, mirror sound, mimic tone. But not this. Not the exact pitch of Natalia’s voice when she fought to remain calm. Not the gentle crack in Sasha’s voice when he said Gabriel’s name.

This was real.

They were close.

And they were coming.

He looked up at Leonardo. The commander stood still, his gaze fixed ahead, but not on the horizon. On Gabriel.

Leonardo didn’t reach for him. Didn’t speak. But the tension in his jaw was different now. Not hard with suspicion, but tight with something quieter. Protective. Careful.

“If this turns out to be fake,” Leonardo muttered, “I’m incinerating something. Anything. First thing I see.”

Gabriel let out a laugh, quiet and unsteady. The sound wobbled near the end and hitched on a breath. His hand came up to wipe at his face.

He didn’t try to hide the tears.

Leonardo finally moved, stepping closer. Not touching, but near enough that Gabriel felt his presence wrap around him like a barrier, shielding him from everything else.

Another voice chimed through the device. Short-range. A scan confirmation.

“We have you. Stay where you are. We’re locking your coordinates.”

Gabriel turned slowly toward the slope ahead, eyes climbing the tangle of trees and knotted brush toward a clearing that shimmered just beyond reach. Light spilled faintly through the canopy. No longer twisted. Just soft. Real.

Leonardo joined him, shoulder brushing his.

Gabriel’s voice broke the hush. “We are almost back.”

Leonardo glanced sideways, brow raised faintly. “Almost? Not the most reassuring word you could’ve chosen.”

Gabriel managed a crooked smile. “I’ve learned not to jinx things.”

They moved together toward the ridge, slow but certain.

The Hollow stayed quiet.

Too quiet.

Just as Gabriel reached the edge of the clearing, something flickered behind them.

He turned, quickly.

Nothing.

Just branches. A shimmer. A stillness that hadn’t been there before.

Leonardo followed his gaze, suddenly alert.

Gabriel’s fingers hovered over the comm again, suddenly cold.

The quiet deepened. Too thick. Like something listening.

The device, still in his hand, crackled softly, and something moved behind the static.

Not a voice. Not words.

Just breath.

And then silence.