Thinking of Engel’s comments, Sveta’s perspective, and the me that had dwelt in that hospital room for nearly two years, I didn’t shy away this time from black, panic-inducing memories, from the idea of breaking promises I’d made to myself to stay sane, or the notion of indulging in those monsters.

If we had to deal with monsters, real and fake, then I’d fucking find a way to deal.

Black 13.11

The car doors slammed with a kind of finality. Sveta went to my side, supporting the Old Man, while Tattletale emerged and walked around the front of the car, which had its headlights on, engine left idling. Snuff leaned over the top of the open door.

“I’ve been a bad friend,” I told Sveta.

“No.”

“I haven’t backed you up enough, and I’ve been lost in my own head enough that I didn’t connect to the fact we were coming here.”

Sveta looked up at the narrow building, not so different from others on the street. The differences were subtle, the front face of the building a little further into the sidewalk, the peaked roof with its golden solar panels extended a little higher than any of its neighbors. Unlike the other Wardens Headquarters, the building didn’t advertise what it was.

“I’ll deal with it,” Sveta said. “I think it’s important to show that I can deal with it.”

“You’re within your rights to have a day, a week, or a month where you focus on dealing, or feeling, or… anything.”

“A right isn’t an obligation,” Sveta said.

“It—isn’t,” I said, changing my mind mid-sentence, ending the statement awkwardly.

The break in the conversation was marked with a flurry of snowflakes from above, with the flicker of amber streetlights on the wide, snow-dusted, one-way street, and by the background noise of Tattletale talking to Snuff. I caught the word ‘Roadkill’.

Arranging dinner for Lookout and the others. I hoped Lookout was doing okay, outnumbered and wrestling with family dynamics.

I hoped Sveta was okay. That any and all of us were okay.

“Whatever’s happening with Weld, if we really are breaking up like this, that doesn’t change that he’s a role model for me.”

I nodded at that, a slow nod as I digested the thought.

“Maybe not a relationship role model, but Weld-as-a-hero? Absolutely.”

“Absolutely,” I echoed Sveta. I wanted to say more, but I’d been dwelling, and now I was trying to pull myself up and out of it, take care of what needed taking care of. My mantra of doing what it took to avoid regrets was still in effect, if it wasn’t in effect more so because I was out of it, frustrated, and closer to the me of the hospital room than I had been in a while. The words didn’t come, leaving me with just an echo of her statement.