"It's not a big deal," Kira dismisses, even as it's clearly a big enough deal that he's kept a dog for most of a year after, with no signs of giving her up. She's proven her uses, and as his bed repeatedly empties--it's nice to have something to lay at his back as the nights get longer and colder.

Tim has been harder and easier. He'd gotten closer this time, than he had before. A kind of closeness he'd maybe only had with Jyn, right before the end, and cultivated over a longer time. But he could set it aside in a different way than he set aside Casey, or Jyn, or--Credence.

Tim, if he'd gone home, had simply gone home. Not to a dead end, not to a rotting world of ash or a version of New York that hated and haunted him. Casey isn't a big deal because Kira simply can't let it be, and continue to get up every day. And he didn't let it be for so long, it's second nature, even looking down at Aurora's lopsided, panting face. "None of the animals have ever gotten pregnant," Kira says, notes from even before his paying attention confirming it. "None of the people either. Far as we can tell, they're already fixed."