The tenth day of the third month has always been a day to reflect upon my failures. Upon those lives I've failed to save, or those lives I've taken. To reflect upon all those lives lost because of me, and to be grateful for those lives I cherish most.
I think I understand what that day is truly meant to feel like now. By all rights I should be dead. I did die. But the love my friends have for me — their refusal to accept losing me — dragged me back to them in the end.
If they knew, they would have spent it being grateful I was born, wouldn't they? They would have wanted to celebrate.
It is thanks to their love that I am now twenty-nine. It was my birthday, and for the first time I think it is something worthy of celebrating.
It is too late for it this year, but next year I think I will have a party. My first birthday party on my thirtieth birthday. I'll make a nice meal and a cake to share with everyone.
[Her birthday! Of course! Why didn't he realize it before? How she's acted on that day suddenly makes more sense.
Regis has to admit he's a little jealous she kept the secret so well. Maybe he should ask her for tips? It's not like he's really that keen on celebrating his own birthday.
...
Nah, he's just going to be happy she has decided to share the information...and that he can start planning on how to make up for all the birthdays he has missed.]
Of course I will be there, though I am tempted to organize a make up party or two before then.
[Regis had meant it as a joke, but in hindsight he realizes he probably should have refrained from making it not just because he is still learning of all the changes she's been through, but also because he knows he would not have found the 'joke' all that funny himself considering his own distaste for celebrating his birthday.]
That is the last thing I would want at something meant to celebrate you. Are you having a lot of flashbacks these days?
[Her list causes Regis to wince. There are so many common day things listed. There are so many parts of her listed.]
I am glad to hear he can no longer hurt anyone, but that doesn't help the fear he causes in you. Fear doesn't listen to logic no matter how much we wish it to.
Is there anything I can do to help?
[He doubts there is. Such things usually need time to heal over as much as they can. Still, he has to ask.]
Help by keeping others away while I kill him. I will need to practice binding spells. If he can fight back he will enjoy it. He will have no fight. No hunt. Just death.
If I've my mask on a hug will be fine. If I don't, ask first. Some days I am fine with touch, others I cannot stand it.
[ Shortly after the usual monthly deposits of money earned for touch hit accounts, an extra one shows up in Regis'--to the tune of a hundred bucks or so worth of Dora. There is no indication of the source, and no note. ]
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