I'd have managed in time, but-- it was as good as having the metal grating under my feet again, the way I felt. Easy enough to fall back into being an inquisitor's helper and focus on the man who'd done the cutting and not the poor soul who'd been brutalized, because it was just so damned ugly. Think of the cleanup and not what'd happened to necessitate it.

I dreamt of being back there. But you're one of the best reminders that I'm not. And you've taken care of me during all the little pitfalls. You've spoiled me. I don't regret a bit of it.