Chapter 42: Welcome Home, Archie!

The campus hadn't changed — not in the way that mattered.

The cobblestones still crunched underfoot. The cherry trees had just begun to blossom, scattering delicate pink petals across the lawns like confetti. The second-floor windows of the dorm caught the afternoon sunlight and glinted like quiet smiles, familiar and warm.

But Archie had changed.

He felt it in the ache of his body, in the careful way he breathed. In the dreams that still hadn't let go of the gunshot echoing through the halls of the Connor estate. In the way he gripped the railing a little tighter as he climbed the stairs, step by slow step.

Anne was beside him, her hand steady at his back. William walked just behind, quiet and watchful — never too close, never too far.

When they reached the top, Archie paused in front of the old wooden door. Room 204.

The world seemed to hold its breath.

"I don't know if I can walk in there," he said quietly, swallowing the lump rising in his throat.

"You don't have to be the same," Anne replied. "You just have to come home."

He took a breath.

Turned the knob.

And was instantly ambushed by a thunderclap of noise.

"ARCHIEEEE!"

"OH MY GOD, HE'S ACTUALLY ALIVE!"

"LOOK AT YOU—WALKING AND EVERYTHING!"

Lila practically tackled him with a bear hug, tears already running down her cheeks. Marco was right behind her, holding what looked like a party popper and grinning like an absolute maniac. Elliot shouted something incomprehensible before launching a glitter cannon directly into Archie's chest. Maya stood back at first, but her eyes were full of joy—and relief that didn't need words.

Jonas was in the corner, holding a hand-painted sign: WELCOME BACK, ARCHIE! Underneath, in tiny red marker: We saved your seat in King's Cup.

Archie blinked. Then laughed. Then cried. All at once.

"You guys—what the hell—this is..."

"Love, obviously," Marco interrupted, handing him a plastic tiara. "You're royalty now. Surviving evil rich parents makes you King of the Second Floor by default."

"He was already the king," Lila sniffled, wiping her eyes. "We were just keeping the kingdom warm."

Maya passed him a piece of cake — the icing slightly melted and off-center. "I made this myself. I used salt instead of sugar for the first batch, but don't worry. We burned it in a ceremonial fire."

Archie smiled, unable to speak. His heart felt too full.

"I don't even know what to say."

Elliot slung an arm around his shoulders. "You don't have to say anything. We're just glad you're back. And that you're... okay."

Jonas stepped forward, more solemn than the rest. "We heard what happened. All of it. The Connors. The files. Amanda. You almost died." His voice faltered. "You almost died, Archie."

"I know," Archie whispered. "But I didn't."

He looked around at each of them — Lila's watery smile, Maya's quiet pride, Elliot's casual affection, Jonas's steady eyes, Marco's laughter. This was his home. Not the hospital bed. Not the shadowy past.

This.

"Thank you for not forgetting me," he said, voice thick.

"We could never," Maya replied.

"And besides," Marco added, "who else is going to keep us grounded while we do dumb things and drink terrible liquor?"

William stood in the doorway, watching the scene unfold with a quiet kind of reverence. When Archie's eyes met his, a private smile passed between them. One that said everything words couldn't.

I made it back to you.

Archie stepped away from the crowd and crossed the room. William opened his arms.

They embraced—slow, careful, but solid. Real.

"You came back," William murmured.

"I told you I would," Archie replied.

Behind them, someone turned on music far too loud. Lila yelled something about burning the cake again. Elliot had already opened the liquor cabinet. Jonas was protesting the use of glitter indoors. Marco was suggesting an extremely irresponsible party theme.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Archie laughed until he couldn't breathe.

He was home.

Not perfect. Not whole. But healing.

And surrounded by people who refused to let him go.