hardly anyTThIIng TThere f0r y0u TT0 see

II’ll DM them two you and get the cookiie2 2tarted 0u0

II do! You're very welcome two come vii2iit me iif you'd liike

well. TThank y0u...

do you liike 2weet2? II can briing 2ome cookiie2

ahah. a bIITT TT00 much, maybe.

TTh0ugh IIf IITT IIsn’TT IImp0sIIng TT00 TTerrIIbly...

0n0, would you liike 2ome liike.. ju2t regular company? ii2 anyone vii2iitiing you and thiing2?

II’ve m0sTTly kepTT TT0 myself...

II haven’TT been enTTIIrely al0ne, buTT.

a lot of our helm2men liike doiing rehab iin group2 becau2e they can motiivate each other, iif liike, that help2 at all

II supp0se TThaTT d0es make sense.

buTT here, IITT’s...jusTT me.

II have been aTTTTempTTIIng physIIcal TTherapy, TTh0ugh IITT’s n0TT pr0gressIIng as well as II’d lIIke...

IITT’s. TTIIrIIng, and paIInful, and dIIffIIculTT TT0 sTTay m0TTIIvaTTed.

II know iit can be pretty ea2y two loo2e tiime

II’m 2leepiing 2oon but iit2 niice two 2ee you here

Didn’t help that you were preoccupied with worrying if Silenced had managed to remain safe in the aftermath of what he had done, and it was hardly something that you could speak with your host about and expect her to understand. Helmchat was good; it helped to be around people who had shared similar experiences, who might even be able to do something about any of it, even if there was a bitter sort of sadness to it, as well.

But even so...

You feel the absence of everything you’d known and loved so strongly, in these  moments. Not just the loss of them; the people, the places, the purpose; but even the clarity of your memories... Fractured and faded through a life longer than any gold was ever meant to live, through the strain of the helm, and the threshold of death.

The memory of faces became glimpses of the color of his eyes, the way her grin would flash sharp-edged in the moonlight... Voices, now mere impressions of cadence and inflection, of whispers in the dark and screams in the light. The rustle of fabric and stomping of boots and a hand held tight in your own. Sensory impressions, vivid enough to linger, but fleeting as dreams.