He couldn't have pinpointed when it had begun, but somewhere along the way, Rabbit had started crawling toward change. A different life. He didn't necessarily feel any more capable, but when he looked back he saw moments of uncharacteristic bravery. Less floundering. Focus, and sometimes clarity. Blackfriars was a stark example of the divide between his new life and the old, Helpful Rabbit giving way to Hiding Rabbit halfway through without notice, but he thought that might be the nature of these things. Rome wasn't built in a day, or whatever. Neither was he.

Through it all, one thing remained constant. Liv. She needed him in a way that no one else did, and he had assumed her dependence would forever be the rock that kept him from giving in to some of his more destructive impulses. But the rocks were slippery lately, slick with the blood of footless college kids and werewolves, and though he'd fought to stay put, to be there for her whether she needed him or not, he had grown so very tired of holding on.

To be fair, he usually wasn't home this early on a Thursday. The combination of gorgeous weather and the coincidental cancellation of all three of Mavericks's afternoon appointments had prompted Gloria to give everyone the rest of the day off, so here he was, standing just outside their apartment, watching Olivia and James jam their tongues down each other's throats. He had opened the door without a sound, his newfound speed and silence rendering him unintentionally invisible, and they were too engaged to hear him, rustling clothing and soft moans drowning out his vitriol. She didn't need him. Rabbit had known that, but he'd hidden it so deeply in the back of his mind that no one else could find it without help. A push in the right direction.

He held his ground for half a minute or so, struggling to move beyond embarrassed curiosity, but eventually, in the space between breaths, a dim pulse of nostalgia, of longing, even the faintest hint of jealousy, sparked somewhere between his heart and his throat. It gave him a beacon. A way to turn. He let go of the rocks.

"Vic," he whispered.

By the time Liv registered the sound and spared a glance at the door, he was gone.