The portal crackles. The wind pouring from its core lashes their faces—cold, electric. Dave feels time slipping through his fingers, and he knows that if he doesn't say something now, the emptiness will follow him forever.
"Mm…" He rubs the back of his neck, awkward. "Thanks, I guess. For... everything."
"You don't have to thank me," Heinz replies. His fingers brush his ebony watch with slow, nervous precision. "It was the right thing to do."
"Right. The right thing." Dave laughs, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "And you always do the right thing, huh?"
Heinz looks away. The light from the portal casts a silver gleam in his pupils.
"Sometimes... I try."
Silence falls like a slab of stone between them. Dave bites his lip and turns his eyes to the vortex. He should walk through and be done with it. But his feet won't move.
"So... what are you going to do now?" he asks, feigning indifference.
"I don't know." Heinz raises an eyebrow. "I guess the same thing I always do. Wait."
"Wait for what?"
Heinz doesn't answer. He remains silent.
Dave glances at him from the corner of his eye: hair plastered to his temples, soaked jacket clinging to his lean frame, lips tight with the weight of a goodbye neither of them knows how to carry. His chest aches in that irritating way, like he's leaving more behind than just a dimension.
Shit, he thinks. Why does this hit so hard?
He inhales deeply. And, without thinking too much, blurts:
"You could come with me."
Heinz blinks, startled.
"What?"
"Yeah." Dave shrugs, hands shoved into his pockets, faking a nonchalance he doesn't feel. "I don't know what the hell you'd do in my world, but I'm sure you'd find something interesting. Plenty of demons to kill. Puzzles to solve. Or, I don't know, we could just…" He hesitates. "Keep investigating. Together."
Heinz doesn't reply right away. He looks to the portal. His expression shifts—part disbelief, part something else. Something Dave doesn't recognize at first but, when he does, it hits him in the gut: hope.
"Are you serious?"
"I don't usually joke about the important stuff," Dave says—half sincere, half teasing.
Heinz lets out a short laugh, low and soft, disappearing into the rain.
"That sounds like a lie."
"You're right." Dave grins and steps closer. "But this isn't."
The air between them changes. No longer just sarcasm and half-truths—now there's something raw, something real. An invitation neither of them expected but both of them needed.
Heinz draws in a breath.
"If I cross that portal… there's no going back."
"I know."
"And I'm not an easy person, Dave."
"Who is?"
Heinz studies him a moment longer. Then exhales slowly, as if releasing everything that's held him in place until now. He steps forward. Then again, until he's standing right in front of Dave. The portal flickers behind them, casting pale blue light over their skin.
"All right," Heinz says at last. "I'll go with you."
Something unknots in Dave's chest. He claps Heinz's shoulder—harder than necessary—because the contact helps hide the emotion swelling beneath the surface.
"Awesome. But fair warning—my world's a total mess."
"Perfect," Heinz replies with a crooked smile. "I love disasters."
Heinz extends his hand, green eyes locked onto his.
"So you don't get lost on the way," he murmurs.
Dave takes it without hesitation, gripping tight. For a second, time freezes. It's not just a gesture; it's an anchor. A silent bond between them. And as the rift blazes before them, the heat of their joined hands burns brighter than any fire.
Together, they step into the breach—hearts pounding—unsure if this choice will lead them somewhere safe or hurl them into a limbo worse than the one they've just left behind.
The air thickens, vibrating with tension. Every step feels like passing through an invisible membrane, sucking energy from their very bones. Dave feels the weight of not knowing. And, for some reason, the grip of Heinz's hand in his gives him the barest thread of comfort in the madness.
"If we make it out of this, I owe you a hell of an apology, Heinz," Dave mutters, trying to cut the tension with his usual flippancy. "Don't expect me to get all sentimental though."
Heinz chuckles—dry, brief—but his expression betrays him. The gravity of the moment is heavier than he's willing to admit.
"I don't want apologies, Dave," his voice is soft, shaded with something close to sorrow. "I just want you to remember… this world. And me."
Silence settles between them.
Dave swallows the lump rising in his throat. He's never had a moment like this, one that feels so much like a farewell. But before he can name the feeling, before the words can form—
—the breach snaps shut with a burst of light, and they're gone.