((just a little read-more addendum, because I think some of y’all are on mobile and haven’t read my rules page.  if you’re under 18, or if your blog lacks any kind of info page stating clearly that you are 18+, I’m not super comfortable following back. you’re welcome to have your char talk to Tavros and hold conversations if the site can avoid shitting itself long enough to do so, but I, his mun, am not going to press the follow button, unless I genuinely don’t realize you’re <18 and have gotten confused somewhere along the line.

Over the past few days, you compartmentalize further. You say goodbye, but in a roundabout way that puts people on edge wondering what the hell you’re up to. You captchalogue all of your precious beasts and send them in portfolio form to your NOT-MOIRAIL. You GIVE AWAY a good portion of the clothes you love, while sending clothing and gifts to others you’re unsure you’ll meet again.

Well, that is... 

You’ll meet them again. If you create more splinters, though, they’ll need the closure you’re getting right now.

Several days ago, you injected your ex (?) matesprit with an experimental serum that should cure have cured him of his... ails. You wrote everything down, you’ve checked back periodically, and today, when you arrive, he’s drawn your sign on the shatterproof glass in that brilliant mutant blood of his.

He’s awake. He remembers. It’s almost more frightening than exciting.

Of course it took you this long. Of course you couldn’t just figure it out back when you were happy living on a dead world, playing doctor with living corpses. You unseal the door and kneel down on the ground to pull him into your arms from where he’s curled up in that stupid sufferer regalia you made him before he went off to wander, skin still all dry and flaky, though he’s recovered far more than you expected he would.

“Home,” he croaks, and you nod, swallowing past the lump in your throat.

“Yes,” you say, nuzzling into his dusty, wiry hair. He still smells like death, even though his blood smells completely alive again. “Yes, you’re home now.”

He bunts against you with his horns and you back off a little, it’s -- it was too much, maybe he’s having trouble with muscle control -- but he does it again and you pull back more.

“No, I want to go home.”

You hurt. Your chest feels empty, again. Like it always does. But you never argue when this happens, as it always does. It’s funny how you tricked yourself into thinking things could be normal again, after losing him for over a sweep.

It’s ironic you won’t tell your daughter he’s dead until he’s alive again.

You kneel solemnly beside him and he talks. And you listen. His voice is raspy, so you get him some water. An ablution - he keeps grabbing your wrist and hissing at you in a way that’s completely alien to the way he was before he left. You input his old coordinates and send him home - his home - with a satchel of vegetables and bread.

He doesn’t want to see his daughter.

As it’s been since you found him as a zombie, you don’t really want his daughter to see him, either. And that’s fine, you’d have to explain yourself to Sollux, anyway, so really, maybe it’s for the best like this.

(It isn’t for the best like this.)

You have yourself a good cry in the ablution trap, knowing that there are no little ears around to hear you, and then you put on a big fluffy bathrobe and go about getting necessities. You duplicate the cure many times with your alchemiter, store it onto one card, and then duplicate that card to send a copy to Arch. The second one you’ll keep on you, just in case. You've already gathered all of the blackened bones of your coplayers, including Sollux's, which you had to uproot a huge peach tree in the garden to get to. You're ready. You feel dead inside, but you're ready.

Maybe... one more day with Meenah.