They reached the hospital doors. The sunlight hit his face for the first time in weeks, warm and blinding. It should've felt freeing, but all he felt was tired. People outside recognized him immediately— phones came out, whispers spreading like wildfire.

"Is that him? The Skyfall guy?"

"Thought he died."

"He doesn't look like a legend anymore."

"Poor bastard. Fame's not worth that."

Big D gritted his teeth and leaned close to Sid's ear.

"Don't listen, bro. They don't know what you've been through."

Sid didn't react. He just muttered under his breath, barely audible,

"Maybe they're right."

Morgana's hand trembled as she rested it on his shoulder.

"Sid… please don't."

He said nothing. Big D pushed the chair faster, trying to get them through the crowd. They reached the van, and Morgana opened the door while Big D helped Sid inside. The moment the doors shut, the noise from outside vanished, replaced by the quiet hum of the engine.

Morgana turned to look at Sid. He was staring out the window, face blank, fingers tracing the brace on his leg. For the first time, she didn't know what to say.

Big D drove without a word, glancing in the mirror every so often. Morgana's eyes stayed on Sid, her hand resting gently on his arm. He didn't move, didn't speak— just kept staring at the passing streets, as if trying to remember the world before the fall.

Home was waiting ahead, but for Sid, it no longer felt like a place he belonged.

When they finally pulled up in front of the apartment building, Sid sat still for a while, staring blankly at the world outside the van window. His reflection looked like someone else— someone older and worn down. He took a slow breath before pushing the door open.

Down the street, a few kids ran past, laughing and chasing each other with paper planes in their hands. Their carefree voices echoed through the alley, and something in Sid's chest tightened. He used to be that fast, that light. Now, even standing felt like a task. Big D hopped out first, clapping his hands like he was trying to break the tension.

"Alright, home sweet home, my guy! No doctors, no needles, just real air."

He grinned, but Sid didn't return it. Morgana quietly helped Sid out of the van. Her hand brushed against his arm for balance, though he barely seemed to notice. As they walked through the courtyard, people stared. Some whispered. Some even pulled out their phones, pretending to scroll while their eyes followed him. Sid heard fragments— soft but sharp.

"That's him…"

"Guess he's done for…"

"Used to be amazing, huh?"

Morgana shot them a glare so cold it could freeze stone. The whispers died instantly, replaced by forced silence and awkward smiles.

They reached the apartment building entrance. Sid's steps slowed when he saw the wall beside his door. The paint was covered in scribbles— harsh words written in black marker:

"FRAUD."

"IDOT."

"ATTENTION SEEKER."

"SHOULD'VE STAYED DOWN."

"YOU DESERVED IT."

Someone had even drawn a stick figure falling from a tower. He just stared, his throat dry. Morgana's eyes flared with anger, and Big D's jaw dropped. Big D shouted,

"Are you kidding me? We just cleaned this yesterday! What kind of sick—"

He stopped when Morgana shot him a warning look.

"I mean… uh, yeah. Totally not helpful to mention that now."

Sid didn't respond. His hand hovered near the vandalism, his fingers trembling slightly. He let out a shaky laugh that didn't sound like a laugh at all.

"Guess my fans really missed me, huh?"

Morgana frowned. Her voice was soft but stern.

"Don't joke about that. You don't deserve this, Sid."

Inside the apartment, the air was different. Clean. Fresh. The faint scent of soap and new fabric hung in the air. Sid blinked, surprised. Everything was neat and organized— the counters cleared, the shelves dusted, the floor spotless. Even his messy desk was perfectly arranged. Big D threw his arms out dramatically.

"Welcome to Hotel Morgana! She spent days cleaning this dump. I swear, she even found stuff I thought was extinct."

He laughed, earning an elbow from Morgana.

"She found your old rag under the bed and asked me, 'Why does this man keep souvenirs made of mold?' I told her it's your emotional support trash."

Morgana rolled her eyes.

"You talk too much."

But Sid wasn't listening to them anymore. His gaze drifted toward his bedroom. Morgana stepped ahead and opened the door. Inside, the room looked warmer than he remembered. There were stacks of letters, small boxes, and neatly wrapped gifts on the desk and bed. Cards with handwritten notes sat beside them, covered in messages like:

"Get well soon, Sid!"

"Stay strong, Sid!"

"We love you, don't lose hope!"

Sid's eyes widened.

"What… what is all this?"

Morgana smiled faintly.

"They're from your fans. The ones who really care. I've been collecting them while you were in the hospital. Some came by mail, some were dropped off in person. One's even from your mother."

She handed him a sealed envelope.

"She started a fundraiser for your hospital bills. One of your fans took care of the rest. Everything's paid off."

Sid's hand trembled as he took the envelope.

"She… did all that?"

Big D nodded, his usual grin softer now.

"Yeah, man. You've got people out there who still believe in you. Real ones. Not the ones typing garbage online."

Morgana crossed her arms, though her voice gentled.

"I even had to hide some of the snacks people sent because someone—"

She shot Big D a look—

"Couldn't stop eating them."

Big D threw up his hands.

"Hey, they were bad for your health anyway. I was doing you a favor!"

"Uh-huh."

Sid's eyes lingered on the letters, his fingers brushing against one envelope. It was from a little girl who had drawn him running across a rooftop, smiling. Beneath it, a note said,

"You're still my hero."

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