[He hears the footsteps before he hears the voice, and he knows both sounds. His memories are still fractured and disordered but that voice and those footsteps are tattooed on his brain. He's not sure he could ever really forget.
He turns his head, looks at him.
There's still a whisper of a mission in the back of his head but he disregards it. That he can is a marvel in and of itself, but in the face of so many other difficulties it's not much to celebrate. After all, that mission is null and void.]
You.
[...no. That's not right. It's not enough. But he's grasping for what else to say and all he can hear are the echoes of that museum exhibit.
no subject
He turns his head, looks at him.
There's still a whisper of a mission in the back of his head but he disregards it. That he can is a marvel in and of itself, but in the face of so many other difficulties it's not much to celebrate. After all, that mission is null and void.]
You.
[...no. That's not right. It's not enough. But he's grasping for what else to say and all he can hear are the echoes of that museum exhibit.
Best friends since childhood.
Inseparable.
So why can't he remember?]
You're here too.