She explained everything to him. How she consumed her wife?s soul in order to try and spare her life, the cravings that immediately followed and the madness that sapped her of her self-control. The mood shifted from urgent to somber, and Conrad?s freak-out antics were put on indefinite hold the very instant she spilt herself to him.

?I see.? It was the first thing he?d said since she went quiet. ?What else, Angel??

She was crying, tears gushing down her face like a pair of tiny waterfalls that had been locked in a dam for centuries. Her throat seized every couple of seconds, causing her to croak like she was smuggling countless frogs in there.

??I? I don?t know. I c-can s-sometimes feel her in me. Wh-When we g-get in tr-trouble, I? I st-start to react like she di-did,? she explained, gesticulating when words started to fail her.

The Antigon flapped its large wings, procuring a handkerchief in its membrane. It dabbed at her eyes, cleansing old tears so new ones could fall. ?React like she did? What do you mean, Angel??

She snorted loudly, trying with all her might to suck down the build up of goo in her sinus passage. ?Like I?m? b-becoming her.?

It wasn?t unheard of to take on attributes of the one you merge with; something that Conrad personally could attest to over his years as the Congregation?s Chief. ?I see. Well,? he said, suddenly more confident than he?d been just moments before, ?I think you?re in the clear, Angel.?

?I-In the? c-clear?? she responded, her tongue flapping about in her mouth, killing all sense of coherence.

?What I mean to say is, you don?t have to worry about becoming her, Angel,? he amended, his modified voice crisp with satisfaction. It was enough to ease the girl?s rapidly beating heart; the only physical thing left of Martyr.

She blinked away a new set of tears, ignoring the sting in her eyelids from crying too much. ?Wh-What makes you s-say that? I f-feel her. I c-can? I h-have all t-these memories of hers that make m-me think I?ve experienced them? I have her powers!!? A new wave of anxiety climbed through her body, making her tremble like she was overcome with chills.

Conrad patted the girl with one wing soothingly. ?Angel. This sort of thing happens when two souls merge together. It?s natural, from everything you?ve told me. Mostly.?

?M-Mostly?? She didn?t like the sound of that belated addition to his sentence.

?I?m concerned about this thing you?ve been experiencing. This? madness, you said?? He wasn?t sure what to call it, himself. ?It?s not unknown to us, either, but I think it?s important that you let Sigurd and Evan come to you and--?

She clenched her teeth so tight it was a miracle they didn?t break out of her mouth. ?Forget it!? she yelled at the small device. ?I?d sooner die than let either of them bring me back there with all of you. Evan told me himself that they want to hook me up to one of those research machines and examine every inch of my body!?

Conrad didn?t immediately respond, but knew that letting the air remain dead for even a few seconds would spell certain disaster. ?Angel, I wouldn?t let them do anything harmful to you.?

She stared at the lone eye, contesting that claim with a death glare. The kind where the entire universe goes black and all that remains are a pair of eyes composed of a lively purple shade.

He got them often. Second only to Toby. ?Very well. I had to at least ask for regulation?s sake.?

?R-Regulation? s-sake?? she parroted. Conrad always had a few things up his sleeve when he needed them, but he was a person that went strictly by the book. Regulation would mean taking her back, even if it meant by force. She knew he had all the information regarding where she was located sitting right there in front of him. Was he using it? Was he issuing commands on the side and simply wasting time until Sigurd and Evan got to her?

?As you know, it?s my responsibility to look after each and every Exorcist in the field. Should something happen to them, any of them, it?s my duty to retrieve you. Be it because you got injured, kidnapped, went rogue, or even perished.? He said this like it wasn?t at all a big deal. Conrad, the Nonchalant. It didn?t have a suitable ring to it. ?Should I not maintain that task, it?s likely my command would be taken from me, my rank stripped. That being said, I just can?t bring myself to do something that?d upset you in any fashion, Angel.?

She gawked at the small mechanical device flapping before her, staring at the small eyeball as if it was Conrad in the flesh. ??w-what are you s-saying? Why wo-would you go out of your way for me?? Why was everyone always going out of their way for her? It marveled her in ways she couldn?t even begin to describe. And the more it happened, the more it confused her at the same time it became a clearer reality to her. ?With all d-due respect, Chief, I?m not somebody you should be looking out for. Especially if you?d ge-get in a lot of trouble!?

?Hence why I asked you to return. You declined.? It didn?t seem possible, but he was actually content with the choice. You couldn?t offend the zits on his back, if he had any.

She didn?t get it. Not a single thing. ??s-still. W-Why would you do this???

?Angel,? he started, taking a large breath, ?the important thing is knowing that somebody?s looking out for you here. I requested Sigurd to accompany Evan from the Diamond Branch because the Grand Officials ordered it. I had to put somebody out there in the field. Did I want to do that to you? Not at all. I would?ve preferred that snotty-ass brat to get lost all on his own.

?Problem is,? he chuckled. Cackled, really. Enough to disturb the girl. ?Ahh. I would have enjoyed hearing the report about that.?

?Chief!? Mayu called, demanding his focus.

?You remind me of my little sister,? he returned with, finally admitting his reason. ?She was around your age, and you two looked pretty similar, as well.?

?Looked pretty?? She mouthed the words to herself. It was past-tense. ?You m-mean she???

?Yeah,? he answered, more melancholy than he intended to show. ?It was a few years ago when she first heard about the Viscount. She was one of our top Exorcists; thought she could handle almost anything. And we all believed it, too.? He scoffed, like disbelief wasn?t enough for him. ?The Viscount made her seem like an ant under a magnifying glass. She didn?t even have time to consider what was going on before she??

The girl, who?d been crumpled up on the floor the entire time, reached out to take her Antigon in her arms and pull it close. If she couldn?t give Conrad a hug directly, she had to presume this would do just as well. ?C-Chief, I?m? I?m sorry?? The apology felt hollow when it left her lips. She was sorry for more than just what happened to him. But for belittling his reasons for keeping her secure.

?Mayu,? he continued, vying for her focus now, ?My sister. She?s the one that got put inside of you.?

The girl blinked. Rapidly. In such a way that it made her eyes hurt. Like when you?re riding on a motorcycle without goggles, and a really large bug times his flight just right to smack you there. She didn?t know what to say first. ?Sh-She?s? what?? She realized how offensive that might?ve sound the minute it left her mouth, but it was far too late to retract the question.

Conrad didn?t take any offense to it. ?Remnants are generally composed of the souls lost during the First War. They?re older than we are, wiser, and lend us their spiritual residue so that we may have a chance to finish what it is they couldn?t.

?In my sister?s case, though? The Viscount is the one that ended her life; much the same as the previous Viscount ended theirs. She became Remnants the very moment he landed the killing blow on her.?

She didn?t know what to say, a trend that seemed to be happening more and more by the second. The frog in her throat turned into a boulder, which turned into a cannonball, which turned into a very small planet.

Conrad took it as a sign to continue on, stopping her from having any chance to think about what he?d said. ?She chose you. She?s there, with you, keeping you safe the minute the Reavers appear and looking out for you when the Viscount decides to strike.? He cleared his throat of its own frog. ?You?re both my sibling. My better half. Please. Let me help you.?

Somebody else that?s willing to go to any extent to help the girl. There?d been so many willing to cut through all the red tape just to keep her safe. Never before, though, did she hear their reasons. Nobody had them. They just wanted to assist. Like they were her mother, or because by doing so, they could get closer to their own personal objectives.

If the Chief?s sister truly was stored in her Remnants, then?

??y-yeah, okay. I?ll? I?ll let you help me??

DING.

Toby's ears were still ringing when he stepped free of the elevator and into the empty hallway. It wasn't decorated, its only notable features being the squishy red carpet underfoot and its extremely clean combination of lavender and lemon scents. There were two doors, one on either side of the hallway, unmarked and otherwise identical. Had he not already been to her apartment countless times, daily, he was sure he'd get lost.

The modest bag of food he carried was warm as he hugged it to his chest. It was probably too early for her to eat, or too late. If she was sleeping, and she probably was, it'd be hours before she would even need to eat at all. Why the hell did he pick something warm anyway? Why couldn't he have just brought ingredients, he could have cooked them later. Now, everything would get soggy and cold and taste just a little like cardboard when he heated it back up for her. He frowned, finally making it to her door. He had stood in place for so long he'd left footprints in the carpet.

He slid his copy of her apartment key into the lock and let himself into the entryway. Without the carpet and the half dead lighting, he always felt like he was standing in a really spacious closet. His bare footsteps were the only sound that followed him down the hall. His knock on her bedroom door was like a gunshot. But he'd seen her sleep through more than that.

"May?" He tried the door, carefully poked his head inside. The air smelled like chilled cantaloupe. The egg shaped lamp on one corner of der desk glowed a pale gold and was the only light in the room. He couldn't hear any other breathing than his own and, as his eyes adjusted, he noticed a lack of girl shaped lumps in the tangles of her covers, still unmade from a previous night's sleep.

He suddenly felt hopeful. Maybe she was awake.

He retraced his steps, letting himself into the living area instead. "May, I brought your favorite, beef and broccoli in that spiced sauce you like. And a few things I can make later too. You've got to have run out of leftovers by now."

It was quiet.

His jaw tightened. Memories of their last serious conversation darted in and out of his mind like an annoying, skittish cat. Was she still mad..? If he thought about how he'd badgered her with questions, he was still mad at himself too.

It was all just..what was it? Jealousy, frustration? Selfish want? The rungs of the fridge twanged as he firmly placed small boxes of food, a carton of eggs in the door along with five out of six water bottles. He kept the last one for himself.

He did want to be closer to her. He wanted to be the one she knew she could talk to, the one she knew would listen and wouldn't judge her. The one that when he slid and arm around her shoulders and held her and told her that it was all going to be fine, he meant it. So what did she want from him? Why did she have to take on everything by herself? Why couldn't she turn to him? He just wanted to be there.

But wasn't he always there? And even if he wasn't, what good was scolding her or getting frustrated going to do? That wasn't what he'd wanted to do at all.

"May, are you in here?" he asked, his voice uncertain. It wouldn't be the first time he'd caught her sleeping in her living room chair. The only place he hadn't checked was the bathroom, and if she was in there, he was content to wait as long as it took for her to come out.

The floor was cool and it didn't squeak. He took cautious, lazy steps, like he had all the time in the world to get from the kitchen to the other end of the room. She hadn't done much with all of this space. He knew she didn't have much, but still. Like her other apartment, it felt like she was just staying here instead of living here. He guessed the same could be said about his own.

"May.." He could tell even from this far away she wasn't in the chair. He would have seen her legs, heard something, seen her reflection in the giant television. He exhaled and took another drink from his water. It was late. Where the hell was she? A white spray of paper before the bookcase to his left caught his eye. He felt his eyebrows draw together, stepped over to the pile with his head tilted.

A few of the papers were grainy photographs, taken from a weird distance from whatever was trying to be captured. He shuffled the papers around with his foot, separating them. Icewater surged into his veins as soon as he saw the Exorcist's emblem blazing in the upper left corner of one of the sheets. He knelt down before the pile and set his water aside, began to gather the papers one by one. Both colors of his eyes whirred over the pages, looking for something, anything, to jump out at him.

"Ransacked by demons," he read aloud. "No survivors, village empty, strange disturbance. ...Remnants. This is a mission. They're sending her on a mission? How the hell do they even know where she is?" Anxiety made his hands shaky as he stacked the papers in a haphazard bunch and threw them into the open manila folder, slapping it shut. His eyes grazed the single word written in a thick, neat hand along its upper edge.

Werou.

What color was left in his face bled away. He cursed under his breath as he stumbled to his feet, tearing out of her silent apartment. The folder was stuffed down into the leather bag on his hip.

It couldn't be the same place, the same Werou, but he didn't believe himself when he repeated it in his head.

He had to figure out when she'd gotten this. How long had she had it? How long had they known exactly where she was?

And, most importantly, had she left already?

"What do you mean somewhere you can feel at home, there's nothing th--" Then it hit him. Most of his withering look had been deflected to the table and its offending spread of papers. He stared at them, unblinking, like he could will them to rot with just the mere force of his concentration, turn pristine paper and ink into a moldy mess. "I don't want to hear you talk about yourself like that." The table took the weight of his exhausted lean. "...You need to get out of the city, that much is true. A mission would make sense, but--" He wetted his lips, shoved one hand back through his hair. "I am going with you, not Marjorie. Alright?" He angled his gaze up to her, enough of his ferocity had petered out into determination. He studied her face avidly.

You'd think she was recovering from a really bad cold, where only the running of gook in her nose was abundant and needed to be wrinkled tight to cease the flow. "W-What do you mean, 'I'm going with you, not Marjorie'? She's already be-been recruited f-for this as-assignment. She's been l-looking forward to it." They've spent a lot of time together the past week or so. It was one thing she couldn't quit jabbering about. "M-Marjorie is a v-very close and d-dear person. She ha-hasn't walked o-off like e-everyone else. D-Do you re-really think I c-can just t-tell her she c-can't come now?"

His lips trembled, threatening to peel back from his teeth. He suddenly felt like a stain on a clean white carpet. "I mean exactly what you meant when you said you were going anyway, it's exactly as I say. I'm not saying this just because I want to protect you or think that Conrad's idea is stupid."

The floor earned a look like it was the most impressive thing in her world. And, yeah, there's plenty of things impressive in her world already. The floor doesn't even compete. "I d-don't know why you th-think this is su-such an im-important matter that you h-have to come." S-She looked up at him, all honey and sugar sweetly, "M-Maybe I c-can take you s-somewhere nice after I g-get this whole thing straightened out?"

He could almost taste her expression on his tongue. All syrup and sugar and honey and--"Hey!!" he barked after her. (s)"Son of a b*tch--" Both colors of his eyes blazed as he looked after May's back. He couldn't believe he was left alone in a booth with a pink plastic chair that had a picture of a creepy girl's face.

She seated herself on one stool as delicate as a pressed rose, a bunch of air swelled in her nose, snorting out a laugh for no good reason.

He turned back to the table, scraping the papers he'd thrown out all over its surface back into a messy pile and stuffing them into the bag on his hip. He decided to leave the plastic chair where it was as he turned. If he picked it up, he had the feeling he'd throw it at somebody.

It took effort to curb his strong urge to keep marching straight back to the bar. He needed to go at this a different way, very different. He moved to take up the stool on May's right, one hand raised. "Don't get up. Please." He exhaled. "...I know I'm being weird about this and I can explain that, just--give me a chance to..?"

She did her best to not become exasperated over the whole thing. He was persistant, and she knew that. Maybe it was better if she just let him get whatever was bugging him off his chest. The sooner it was over and done with, the sooner she could get to reject his suggestion all over again. If it was even a suggestion in the first place.

"Toby," saying his name tenderly, like two lovers fresh from a night beneath sweat-laden sheets, "you're not being wei-weird. B-But, I a-already t-told Marjorie to co-come with. If y-you're so c-convinced that you need to do this in-instead of somebody with actual magic power, y-you're go-going to have to t-talk to her yourself. I can't just te-tell her no."

"Mmph.." He could cover by saying he knew what she was going to say, that he didn't want to hear her scold him for going after what he wanted. Anything but the truth and how her mouth did things to his name that he wanted to feel all over the rest of his skin. He turned to face the bar, smoothing the silk of his scarf up over the back of his neck to hide its redness. Heat suffused him. He hoped his voice didn't crack. "If you tell me where to find her, I'll go tell her." All of this was just because she didn't want to hurt Marjorie's feelings? His eyebrows drew together. He didn't exactly want to do that either. She'd done a lot for May, more than any other one of their friends.

"I know that place, May. I know Werou. I know where it is, I know how to get there, I know exactly what happened to it. It was my home. If something's going on there again--" He scratched at his hairline. "I've got to know what's going on."

It was definitely a trap in and on itself. Marjorie had a private police force at her beck and call. And if she didn't decide to call on them when he arrived, the rest of the family most certainly would. That crazy aunt of hers was a piece of work. Catty and, well, a complete psychobitch, the small maiden had come to learn. Something piqued her interest, though. It made her smile sincerely; a victorious thing like she'd just crushed a pirate's armada. "You don't even know where she l-lives? W-Well, then..." Then, he spilt the beans. All maple syrupy and rotten. Her victorious grin faltered, becoming something solemn. The girl sobered up quick. "...wa-wait, this is your home?" It wasn't disgust that laced those words, but it certainly wasn't pleasant. "Like... born and raised home?"

"Of course I don't know where she lives," he said, exasperated, the hand at his neck thrown into the air. It slapped down on the bar a moment later. "I've only spoken to her a couple of times and none of it was enough to figure out where she lived in the city or wherever her house is." He could feel the atmosphere shatter like a window under the assault of hailstones. Something drew his attention up from his fidgeting fingers. He looked between her two shining silver eyes. "Was. It *was* my home, May. Born and raised, yes." The smile he gave her was sad. "...Haven't I told you that's what the village was called?"

Had he? She searched her thoughts, the merging of one soul she consumed along with her own. He hadn't spoken much of his home, the same as she. To her, it was a silent respect between them. Don't ask, don't tell. Hardships left behind, where only the future needed to be thought of and considered with fondness and warm smiles. She shook her head, feeling the frog in her throat swell so large that words couldn't leave her.

He could see it in her face. He swore he'd said something, but that was probably his own wishful thinking. How could he badger her about never sharing anything with him when he did this? It was beyond hypocritical, repulsive, enough to make him feel like he needed to break something over his own head for his stupidity.

Instead, he gingerly reached into his bag and withdrew the folder a second time, setting it between them and opening it with as much care as if the contents would crumble. He scooted the papers around until he found the photos, spread them out. "Werou was a village in a really wide valley surrounded by lots of green hills. There were mountains in the distance--" He traced one of several bumpy dark outlines. "--I think that's what these are at least. It's the only thing that makes sense. I lived there until I was--until a few years ago. The demons that live there and everywhere else in the Mucha region and all the others are called Yoma. They're the reason why nothing's there..and they're the only thing that I can think of that could still be there now. They overran everything, it was all burned and destroyed. *Everybody*."

He pulled at the corners of his mouth with his fingertips. "I didn't want you *not* to know, May. It just..there were a lot of terrible things already going on in our lives. Telling you about all this would've kinda just added to it, you know?"

She listened to him like a good student should, soaking up the information he provided like a knowledge hungry sponge. All her aloofness, her belittlement, and general teasing of his existence didn't seem to take shape, and in fact, seemed void right then. She couldn't hold that facade up when there was something serious on the line. That, and it was just as difficult to tell just how much she cared for and loved him when she was intently staring at a sheet of paper that outlined a mission she could very well injure herself on. Or worse.

A finger scratched at her cheek, glancing up at him every now and again as he spoke and pointed out key points of interest. Mountains meant they could have a potential place to camp out should they only need visual acknowledgment of the target. "That's not r-really important right now, Toby," she said in a hushed tone, her faux snarkiness being thrown in the backseat. "You have your re-reasons, and... I d-don't ever want you t-to think that you have t-to tell me so-something just b-because. I d-don't press you f-for anything be-because it's your business. I re-respect that." She blinked as she stared at him. "I m-mean.. w-w-what are... f-f-friends f-for, you know?" mimicking him with a hint of mirth beneath it. Their proximity forced color to the surface, the crests of her cheeks kissed a rosy pink.

"...a-anyway. I believe you if you're telling m-me that it was de-destroyed, but... do you u-understand what I'm s-saying? It's not de-destroyed. Not now, anyway. If there's a n-new se-settlement, then... that's good. M-Maybe there were a f-few survivors that d-didn't want to just p-pack up and move s-somewhere else."

He chuckled quietly, having until that point fallen into his own bout of quiet as he listened to her lilting voice; every stutter, every roll of her tongue and purse of her lips. He touched the outer edge of one of the photos with the tip of his thumb. "I don't think that, May. I've never thought that. In turn, I don't want you to think you can't ever ask me anything if you're curious, or talk to me. That's what friends are for too." He quirked a crooked smile, rolling one shoulder, and eased the folder closed again. This conversation wasn't about *that* and he wanted to drop it.

He laid his hand on the folder, his ring finger covering half the word Werou. "I understand you, yes. What I *don't* understand is why people would want to rebuild someplace they know has already been attacked by Yoma. If they went there once, they'll go again." He pursed his mouth into a thin line against the tsunami of emotion battering his insides. (s)"But don't you see..? That's why I have to go. What if there *were* survivors? I thought I was the only one. It's my home, May." He looked up, imploring, his face missing years in its hopeful innocence. He looked like a kid trying to argue for his idea of a favorite vacation spot. "I have to know what's going on there, I can't just sit here. ...Besides, you always wanted me to take you to where I grew up, right?" He remembered that much of their conversation.

What made her stay in the apartment Katt got for her even after Ria disemboweled each and every resident to fuel her own existence? His question was one she experienced on a personal level. One she could answer without having to think about it. "P-People aren't s-swayed so easily to move a-away from where they've the most memories and experience." It was a hollowed thing that left her throat, her vocal chords quavering like she was far too cold. Truth be told, she was. It didn't affect her like it once had, though.

She saw through his strain, with the aid of nautical stars in solid mercury, to keep every last emotion contained and quiet in his heart. That pulsating blue sphere that cased him like a gorgeous air bubble locked tight under water was an avalanche, quickly breaking down each and every time she told him that Marjorie was the one to accompany her. She didn't know what to say. Not at first, anyway. There was an overabundance of words just sitting on the tip of her tongue, all piercing sharp, which were exchanged for something far more sincere and compassionate.

"...if you can convince Marjorie, then you can come." It was that simple. "I w-want you to be able to s-see it for yourself, but if there's a bunch of u-us going, it could c-cause all kinds of problems. F-For everyone involved." She hadn't the strength to look away from him just yet. And, for the first time since she met him, it was, perhaps, the longest period of time where they did nothing but seek each other out through the windows of their souls. She chuckled, both a nervous reaction and honest humor. "I d-don't remember really w-wanting to see your home. I kn-know I a-asked you about going once, but that was j-just for fun. I d-don't think I asked you m-more than that. M-Maybe Katt wanted to g-go really badly?" It was just a guess.

He broke contact first, his eyes closing with an audible sigh of relief. He had been expecting the gamut of rejections but this, while it wasn't an acceptance, was better than nothing. He supported his brow on his palm, his fingers threading through the fall of his windblown hair. He wondered why she even wanted to finalize anything with Conrad instead of just getting the hell out of the city with whomever she wanted to take. Or whomever wanted to go with.

He wetted his lips a second time, nodding as he dragged his fingers back through his hair. "She wanted to go, to see it. I know she asked me at least once about showing it to her, but there were probably more. She was curious, wondered if there were survivors too. I told her no." His knuckles curled at his right temple.

"Werou was where I came from, it was where I lived. My family was there, all my friends, my life when I was a kid. But that's just it, that's where it *was*. There wasn't anything left, I saw it. ...I *saw* it, all the fire, all the destruction, all the *people* when Lisa pulled me out of the crawlspace." He shook his head. "There was never any point in going back, I didn't want to see it. I remember it how it used to be more than how it was when I had to leave. If I ever went back, I knew that wouldn't be the case anymore. She didn't need to see it either, 'cause there was never anything to see." Slowly, very slowly, his half lidded eyes returned to hers. "With you..going back doesn't seem so bad. ...I mean, it's not like it's really either of our choices, but--we've both seen a lot worse than Yoma since then."

She lifted a finger to his lips at some point or another, requesting his silence from the subject. Contact was fleeting, barely a second on the clock. "Circles, Toby," she reiterated an earlier point. It seemed the more they focused on his subject, the more he rambled on about how he saw it destroyed and how there was nothing, nor anybody, present anymore. "The reports say otherwise. That's why I'm going, remember?" Maybe he just needed to hear himself say all these things, to try and make some manner of peace with what was going on inside. The smile she fed him was forced. Her hands crossed on the counter, crafting a makeshift pillow for her chin to slip into.

"I think, today, I'd still be p-pressing to m-make you two go th-there together. I th-think it's important for a co-couple to see each other's home towns and st-stuff like that. It's important. Cherishing, in a sense," says the girl who is going precisely to the place Toby originated from. "A-After we do this, we c-can go tell her about it and s-see if she wants to sti-still see it, too." Her head lolled to glance at him, suddenly convinced she has to every passing second of the day. It was a bright change from the constant need to shy away from his ever watchful gaze. He was like one of those freaky paintings that never takes its eyes off you. "How c-come you never t-took her, anyway? B-Besides the whole, 'there's nothing there' thing."

"Mmph..?" He sucked his lips into his mouth after her fingertip had left them, pretending to chew away the feeling rather than try to keep it in place. "Mmph..circles." He chuckled. "...Right. Well, I've seen your home, kind of. And now we're going to see mine. Kind of." There wasn't much of a smile on his mouth, one light glistened in both colors of his eyes when he briefly met her gaze. He, on the other hand, found it hard to keep it. And maybe if he caught her looking, she'd look away. He liked the feeling of her attention on his shoulders. It was a comfort, it felt natural and warm, something he could fall back into and be caught in.

"...I don't doubt you would have. I would've still said no." Both of his eyebrows rose curiously on his forehead at her question. "Beyond that..? Back when she asked it was still pretty soon after all that stuff happened. I had a life here, I didn't need to go visit my old one, and--I don't know. I just didn't want to, I guess. I didn't think it'd be anything special or something to be cherished or shared with her, it was just..somewhere I didn't want to be. With or without her, with or without anybody."