The portal opened with a low hum and a flicker of violet light, spilling Tony and Clay out onto a quiet neighborhood street. The shimmer faded behind them, vanishing with a final pulse that felt like a sigh.
The street was familiar—ordinary. Cracked pavement. A distant barking dog. The faint golden hue of porch lights against dark skies.
Clay stumbled the moment his feet touched the ground, his shoulder sagging into Tony's side.
"Whoa, easy there," Tony muttered, catching him and adjusting Clay's arm over his shoulders.
Clay groaned, but a smile tugged weakly at his lips. "Gimme a sec to look human again."
Tony chuckled, guiding them down the street. "You sure you wanna walk into your house like this? Might give the doc a heart attack."
"I just need... like, ten seconds" Clay muttered, blinking hard.
They trudged along the sidewalk, Clay's limp slowly turning into a more manageable sway. Streetlamps passed overhead like checkpoints. For a long moment, the only sound was the rhythm of their sneakers against the ground.
Tony broke the silence first. "So… we just escaped death"
Clay snorted, then winced. "barely, i mean, it kind of felt like i really died and came back."
Tony let out a breath. "I don't think we should tell anyone."
"Not a word," Clay agreed instantly. "Not unless we want to end up in a padded room or... worse, on a government watchlist."
"Yeah." Clay paused. "Still... this feels like the start of something."
Tony gave him a sideways glance. "You mean like the first chapter of a really absurd shounen manga?"
Clay laughed, then coughed. "Exactly. Guy almost dies, gets saved by a guy in pajamas, returns home with a cool scar and dark secrets. Classic setup."
"I swear," Tony said with a smirk, "if a talking cat shows up tomorrow, I'm out."
"You think that's the last we'll see of Pajama Man?"
Tony hesitated. "highly doubt it."
Clay nodded, quiet for a moment.
They rounded the final corner. Clay's house stood glowing in the middle of the cul-de-sac, the windows warmly lit. Soft music filtered through the slightly ajar window. Tony felt Clay straighten beside him.
"You ready?" he asked.
Clay licked his lips and nodded. "Let's go."
Tony pressed the doorbell, and as the chime echoed inside, the door flung open.
"Surprise!!"
The hallway exploded with light and sound—balloons fluttered down from the ceiling, and streamers hung from every corner. A hand-painted banner above the living room entry read HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CLAY! in messy, colorful lettering.
Clay blinked, stunned, but recovered quickly. "Ohhh wow. A birthday party? For me? So unexpected," he deadpanned, grinning.
Lara stepped forward with a mock scowl. "Ugh, that's your reaction? I told Jacob you'd be dramatic, and this is what you give us?"
"I'm wounded by your disappointment," Clay said, placing a hand over his heart.
Jacob raised a soda can. "He speaks! And stands. Impressive."
But then Clay's mombrow creased slightly as she looked at her son.
"Clay... are you okay?"
Clay stiffened, wobbling for half a second.
Tony gently shifted, letting Clay slide off his shoulder while keeping a steadying hand on his back.
"Fine, Mom," Clay said quickly, forcing his posture upright. "Tony and I were just playing some basketball. Kinda went hard. That's all."
Tony chimed in without missing a beat. "Yeah, sorry we're late. The game got… competitive."
Her eyes moved between them, reading more than they were saying—but after a beat, she nodded. "As long as you're safe. Come in, boys. We've got cake. And possibly a balloon fight if Jacob gets his way."
Jacob held up a half-inflated balloon. "Already locked and loaded."
As they stepped inside, the warmth of the house swallowed them. The normalcy was comforting, almost surreal.
Clay leaned close to Tony as they passed the threshold, his voice barely audible beneath the music and chatter.
"Looks like Pajama Guy really did handle everything."
Tony glanced at him, then nodded once. "Yeah. He may be weird as hell, but... he came through."
They exchanged a look—half disbelief, half silent understanding—and then followed the others inside.
The door shut behind them.
The night moved on.
And for a little while longer, at least, the world pretended nothing had changed.