It's the morning before the latest in a five-year-long list of inquiries with world governments. To help calm her nerves Vivienne Graham sits at her desk, eyes roaming the striations of a fossil fragment. Not a conventional form of bone reading, but for some reason it helps her get a sense of what the day might bring.

Something about this particular reading isn't sitting well. Call it what you will - a knot in the stomach, a tightness in the chest, fine hairs standing on end - she has a bad feeling about this. Her heart stops when the fragment breaks despite her methodical care. She's about to gather up the pieces when she pauses; the way the pieces are now, it almost resembles the stenciled image of a lightning bolt.

A glance at her phone reveals it's almost time to get going. She decides to try something on a whim, unfolds a small square cloth and opens a leather bag of animal bones, beads, an iron key, and a fossilized raptor's talon (this last one an heirloom from a long-deceased father she never knew). She casts the bones.

Her strength is waning fast, sapped by the Antarctic wasteland and the Titans battling around and above them, any movement being the one that could crush them all to paste and shrapnel. Her body burns in protest but they've almost made it, Dr. Serizawa's right there, just a little more—

The hydra locks onto them - onto HER. Almost magnetically her eyes meet its, all six of them. Three mouths bare their teeth in a wicked grin. Oh, god. Oh, Jesus. She's reduced to a state of childlike terror. All she can do is pump her legs harder and scream.

It lasts only seconds but it could span ages. The world moves in slow-motion. Monster Zero's center head rears back and snaps to attack like a snake, her heartbeat and blood are thundering in her ears it's coming it's coming she can hear it giggling it's coming—

oh god not this not like this someone help me sensei i don't want to die i don't want to die i don't want to die

I DON'T WANT TO DIE SENSEI PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PAPA I DON'T WANT TO

"Goodbye, old friend."

…

Serizawa blinks.

His hand is still outstretched. Just moments ago he'd been standing in the subterranean temple, and now he's on a warm, white-sanded beach – a very familiar one from his childhood. A thin blue-white cone of light erupts skyward in the horizon, and he takes comfort in that.

If this is the afterlife, it doesn't look so bad.

In pure reflex he turns to his side to see her reaction, only for his entire center of mass to sink when he remembers. Antarctica. To his shame, Serizawa realizes that for a brief period of time he'd blamed Mark. Staring at the picture on her dossier, unable to believe it, part of him had wanted to take Mark by the collar and snarl in his face, Vivienne is dead because of you. She would still be alive if not for you. I can still hear her screams. Can you?

Foolish thing to think, even if it'd just been a product of his grief. And why wouldn't she have stopped to help Mark? For all his misgivings about the Titans, Mark is still a friend; and Vivienne is... was a good person. She was kind and funny, easy to get along with, and full of light. Now and then helping take care of Madison, approachable and charming, her attraction to the monstrous aspects of nature, her focus keeping him on his toes...

A fresh breeze ruffles his hair and he catches a sound out of place with this scenery – bones rattling. Vivienne could read the striations in fossil fragments like tea leaves and cast bones to give their colleagues fortunes if they asked. Serizawa's chest aches at the memories, at the void her death left behind.

Just like that the scenery changes.

He's in a museum now, a dinosaur exhibit. The whisper of children's voices carries on the wind. In the corner of his eye Serizawa thinks he sees a lone girl sneaking away from her group to explore. No, wait, there is a girl. She looks over her shoulder at him with hazel eyes. Next the girl turns her gaze to the skeleton of a tyrannosaurus and her expression changes from roguish mischief to an intense scientific focus he knows all too well.

She vanishes, followed by the rattle of bones.

Serizawa now spies an adult figure curled up at the foot of a brontosaurus skeleton and he approaches. Sunlight slides down the walls, illuminating the fossils of an ancient creature poised in such a way it feels as if the skeleton is standing guard over this resting soul, like she's one of its own young. Next to her is a small square cloth and on top of it are bones and beads. Stepping closer he also catches an iron key and the fossil of a raptor's talon.

He exhales harshly, the sound rousing the sleeper. Like a cat she lifts herself up some and stretches, covering a yawn with one hand. Hazel eyes open, eyes that can't seem to decide between brown and green depending on the light, and they go luminous at the sight of him. The unique shape of her face, her unkempt hair, her clever eyes, and a smile so big and bright it's like her whole heart is poured into it. When was the last time she smiled like that?

"Vivienne?"

"Sensei!"

Serizawa's heart… he can't explain the feeling. Like simultaneously being lifted up into the light and plummeting into a chasm. She looks at him with concern now.

That one word is all it takes for his stoicism to crumble. Serizawa's eyes sting and grow hot, vision blurring. He tries to answer but the words are strangled by a globe of air in his throat when a memory flashes behind his eyelids—

Vivienne? He whirls around in the confusion. Where is she? Everyone else is here but her... and Mark! He kicks himself, something must have happened to keep them so far behind. He should have waited and helped them get out of the Osprey! Why didn't he wait?!

A scream. Blood running cold, Serizawa turns just fast enough to see a dragon's head plunge down and—

No. No no no.

Oh god, oh god, oh god no please no, not her, anyone but her, why does it have to be HER?

She vanishes into the devil's jaws, screams silenced, and something inside of him dies with her.

And now Vivienne's here, whole and unharmed and, afterlife or no, looking for all the world like none of that happened.

"Sensei?" she says again and guilt lances through his chest.

Serizawa manages to choke out, "I don't deserve to be called that. Least of all by you."

"What are you talking about?"

"I should have stayed with you. It's my fault. I should never have left you behind— I should have—"

Vivienne's hands rest on his shoulders. Serizawa can't bring himself to look her in the eye – this woman who has been his protégé, his partner, his best friend, his...

"You couldn't have known what would happen," she tells him softly.

God, he's missed her voice so much, and it can't have been that long since—

"I'm so sorry," Serizawa hisses between clenched teeth. He squeezes his eyes shut and hot tears stream down his cheeks. All the grief he'd been holding back since that moment comes rushing out. Vivienne pulls him into an embrace and he breaks. Serizawa cries harder than he has in decades, Vivienne's hands sliding up and down his heaving back, letting him finally express his mourning after restraining it throughout that apocalyptic journey.

Serizawa buries his face in her shoulder, breathes her in. Sandalwood, or ivory. Why did you have to die?

"Hey, hey." Vivienne gives his shoulder a squeeze. "Look at me."

A surge of dread swells in his chest and he holds her tighter, gripped by the irrational fear that all of this is just his mind concocting a wonderful vision before oblivion takes him, or that she'll be lost to some demon's maw again. He didn't even realize he'd voiced the question. Her hand runs through his hair and she gives him hushed words of encouragement, her voice sweet anodyne.

"It's okay. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Just... look at me, please? Ishiro?"

Even after all their years together, she rarely calls him by his given name. Serizawa steels himself and pulls away just enough that he's still holding on to her. He doesn't care if his face is red and puffy and wet from sobbing like a child, he just wants her to be safe. Vivienne holds his arm and cups one tear-stained cheek with her hand, his stubble tickling her palm. Though she's smiling her eyes are wet and turning bloodshot, like his.

"See? I'm right here. Now, I want you to listen to me when I say, there was nothing anyone could do. It just happened."

"But still, I..."

"But still, nothing. It's not how I would've wanted to go out, but one can't exactly control how one dies in our line of work. What's done is done. All we can do now is make peace with it."

Serizawa nuzzles into her hand and holds it with his own. "I missed you so much."

Vivienne looks up at him with such warmth and tenderness it urges him to reach out, brush the bangs from her face and run the backs of his knuckles against her cheekbone. She shuts her eyes at the gentle touch and breathes heavily; Vivienne all but throws herself into another embrace and here Serizawa is momentarily stunned by the strength and desperation she holds him with this time. She tucks her head under his chin and he can hear a voiceless whine well up from the back of her throat.

Guilt stabs at his gut now for a different reason - how long has Vivienne been here, alone, with no one to help her cope with such traumatic final moments? He decides it's his turn to comfort and he returns the embrace. It's not fair. Serizawa chose this, went to his end willingly, even welcomed it as a friend. Vivienne didn't have a choice and her end was sudden and violent. Did it at least go as quickly as his did?

"I was so scared," Vivienne admits, voice muffled by his shirt and her own heaving breaths. "I'm still scared. I didn't want to go. Otōsan, I didn't want to go..."

Serizawa presses his lips to the top of her head. "I felt wrong without you. Incomplete. Half a mind."

He dimly recalls, in lighter and easier days, Ilene saying something to the effect of 'there's no Graham without Serizawa and no Serizawa without Graham'. She'd been right. Vivienne's legs buckle and he eases them down to sit. The museum is gone, replaced by green grass and an immense tree shading them from the sun. No further words to exchange. Or, plenty of them, but both their voices fail them for the time being. He's content to simply sit and let everything out.

Eventually they calm down enough to just sit side-by-side in a comfortable silence, Vivienne's head on his shoulder. It feels good. He can't remember the last time he's felt so at peace.

But even here, old habits are hard to kick; Serizawa pulls out his father's old pocket watch and rubs it in a circular motion with his thumb. Vivienne's hand inches towards it but hesitates, as if to reach for it is a terrible trespass. He just smiles and offers it to her. Instead of taking it she rests her hand over his and thumbs the glass guarding the frozen hands much like he would.

"What time is it?" he asks.

Vivienne rolls her eyes. "Time to get a new watch. Was that a dad joke?"

Serizawa chuckles, and then something occurs to him. Earlier, was it his imagination, or did she...?

"Vivienne. A while ago... did you just call me 'father'?"

Her thumb stops moving. Her cheeks are tinged with pink and she stares at her boots like they're the most interesting things in the world. Serizawa doesn't want to press her further, but he won't deny the warm feeling that blooms in his chest at the thought of it.

"I, um." Vivienne falters, clears her throat, starts again. "You know my father died before I was born?"

"Yes, I remember you telling me."

"Right. But I don't think I ever told you that I... well, how I felt. About you. Honestly, I don't even know how or when it started. Sometimes I would slip up and almost say it, but I didn't know how you'd respond. Maybe I was afraid of making things weird. Or give you the wrong idea. Connotations these days, you see." Under her breath Vivienne adds more or less to herself, "Thanks a lot, Coleman."

Serizawa squints one eye at her. "We track Titans for a living. Weird is our thing."

"I know, it sounds stupid in hindsight."

But Serizawa thinks he understands. For a long time he'd seen Vivienne as a partner and friend. But when things got dangerous, she'd take priority in his mind. At first he'd chalked it up to protectiveness over a treasured friend, but how did that explain the bone-deep dread that he'd die if something happened to her? Back when the MUTO broke out of containment in Janjira he felt ready to kill a man just for knocking Vivienne aside in his haste to escape the chaos. That, and the tremendous pride he felt regarding her own accomplishments. It'd begun to feel less like being proud of his friend and more like... pride in a daughter.

A daughter he never had.

And so on that horrible night, when she was lost in an instant, he'd understood how Mark had felt losing his son.

Serizawa's chest swells. His fingers clasp over hers and she glances up at him from her peripheral, cheeks still pink.

"You can call me that if you want to," he says softly.

Vivienne turns her head slowly, eyebrows disappearing under her bangs, a vaguely horrified look on her face. "I'm not calling you daddy."

It takes him a full few seconds to realize she's referring to certain 'connotations'. "Not that!" He flicks her forehead, but it's all in good fun and she laughs in relief. "I meant, if you want to call me father."

How can someone's face evoke warmth like the sun? The way Vivienne looks at him with such tentative hope is enough to win over anyone.

"Is that okay?" Vivienne's voice is small.

"Yes."

She puts a hand to her mouth and seems to prepare herself for something big. Which, considering the revelation brought up by her earlier verbal slip, it is. Vivienne takes a breath. Whispers something. Now she looks Serizawa in the eye and says it:

"Otōsan. Father."

Serizawa beams at her, misty-eyed. "Musume."