Clara heard the doorbell ring, followed by someone tapping on the glass of the front door. She quickly walked to the door, pulling it open to reveal a large number of people. “…Hi,” she began. There was no way they were all there for her. “Are you all looking for someone?” She was a bit confused, but tried to hide it with a smile.


Stephen hated how out of place he felt around the ARC building these days. Everyone seemed to have a job to do and a place to be, and the metaphorical walking dead didn’t belong here. It still astounded him that everyone had been allowed to believe he’d died, that there had even been a funeral while he was merely laid up in hospital. He should have died, but apparently he was too stubborn even for that.

Today, not really paying attention to where his feet took him, he ended up in the command centre where a young girl was tapping away at keyboards and monitoring various screen, relaying information to the relevant people via the comm system. She was so absorbed in her job that she hadn’t even noticed him yet. Unlike certain people he could probably name, Stephen knew well enough not to interrupt, so instead, he stood silently, watching her work, making a point to be in her line of sight so as not to startle her, should she look up from her screens.