So, guess who's back. Also, "Guest" No, I won't update in 2023, I'll update 2025...Sorry everyone for taking so long. Life got in the way, and frankly, I gave up on writing. I lost my love for it, lost motivation in everything. However, life has been looking up for me. I published my first book on Amazon (which this fanfic is now a cross-over of). I have an amazing job, a place to live. I'm happy. So, I am back!

The drive home was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Connor hummed along to something playing softly on the radio while I watched the city blur past my window. Our shopping bags rustled in the trunk with each turn, a reminder that this was real – I was going home.

"Here we are," Connor announced as we pulled into the parking spot marked 4B. His apartment complex rose before us, red brick and white trim, with window boxes "Third floor," he added, grabbing several bags. "Sorry about the stairs – the elevator's been out since Tuesday."

I gathered what I could carry, the wolf blanket clutched closest to my chest. The stairwell echoed with our footsteps as we climbed, and by the second floor, Connor was slightly out of breath but still smiling. "Maybe we should've made two trips," he chuckled.

The apartment door opened to reveal a cozy living room with brand new leather couch. My y attention immediately fixed on the hallway where a door stood open, revealing freshly painted pale blue walls.

"That's your room," Connor said, setting down the bags. "I wasn't sure what color you'd like."

I stepped inside, the room wasn't huge, but it had a window seat overlooking the street, and built-in shelves that wrapped around one corner. The afternoon sun slanted through the window, casting golden light across the hardwood floor.

"We can rearrange everything however you want," Connor said from the doorway, giving me space. "The bed can go wherever—"

"Here," I interrupted softly, pointing to the corner where I could see both the door and the window. Something inside me needed that visibility, though I couldn't explain why.

Connor nodded, understanding in his eyes. Together, we assembled the bed frame and dressed it with the new sheets and comforter. I draped the wolf blanket across the foot of the bed, its eyes catching the light. The fairy lights went up along the ceiling, creating a subtle glow that reminded me of stars.

When everything was finally in place – the desk under the window, cork board above it ready for memories to be made, and my few belongings arranged on the shelves – Connor stepped back.

"Welcome home, Lexa," he said simply, and those three words made my eyes sting with tears I quickly wiped away.

But as I stood in my new room, surrounded by things that were truly mine, that nagging sensation returned. The wolf blanket seemed to whisper of something just beyond my grasp, a life I couldn't remember but somehow couldn't fully forget.

My stomach growled, breaking the moment. Connor laughed, checking his watch. "It's almost seven. How about we make dinner?"

I followed him to the kitchen, where warm copper pots hung from a rack above a small island. Connor opened the fridge, revealing surprisingly well-stocked shelves. "I went shopping yesterday," he explained, pulling out vegetables and chicken. "Thought we could make stir-fry? Unless you don't like—"

"I love stir-fry," I said quickly, though I wasn't entirely sure if that was true. So many of my preferences felt like question marks.

Connor handed me a red bell pepper. "Would you mind chopping while I get the rice started?"

The weight of the knife felt oddly familiar in my hand. Without thinking, I began dicing the pepper with quick, precise movements. Connor paused while measuring rice, watching me with raised eyebrows.

"You've done that before," he observed carefully.

I set the knife down, staring at the perfectly uniform pieces. "I... I guess I have." But where? When?

Connor cleared his throat. "Well, you're officially on vegetable duty then," he said lightly, returning to the rice. "My knife skills are better suited to the ED."

We worked in comfortable synchronization, the kitchen filling with the sounds of sizzling and the smell of garlic and ginger. Connor told me about his latest shift at Chicago Med, how different it felt to come home to a full apartment instead of an empty one. "Sometimes," he said, stirring the chicken, "the right things just fall into place. Like in the ED – you never know when something's going to change your whole life."

I nodded, focusing on slicing mushrooms. "Like us?" The words came out smaller than I intended.

"Exactly like us," Connor confirmed, his voice warm and sure. He bumped my shoulder gently with his. "Though I didn't expect my daughter to be a better cook than me. They don't exactly teach that in medical school."

Daughter. The word filled my chest with warmth, even as another part of me whispered of other dinners, other kitchens lost to the fog of my amnesia. The wolf blanket in my new room seemed to call to me, even from down the hall.

"Earth to Lexa," Connor waved a spatula in front of my face. "The vegetables ready?"

I shook off the feeling and handed him the cutting board. Soon we were sitting at the small kitchen table, steam rising from our bowls. Connor had placed a bottle of sriracha next to my plate without asking, as if he somehow knew I liked spicy food.

"To new beginnings," he said, raising his water glass.

I clinked my glass against his, watching the ice cubes dance. "To new beginnings," I echoed, and took my first bite of dinner in my new home.