Who knows, maybe one day you'll be tormented with the sight of it.

[The barest hint of a curl on her lips. Not that she wishes Wash to be here, feels almost bad for saying that, as if it might somehow magically make him appear.

The bags under his eyes, and the experience she herself went through. It pales in comparison, she knows. York and Delta. Peanut butter and jelly. Both he and North had done far better than the rest of them.]

I'm sorry. I know how much you meant to each other. If you ever need or want to talk about it, I'm here, or even if you don't want to talk about it.