(no subject)

He waits a bit. He knows she's back, knows she's okay - Neil has told him as much, and at least for the first week or so afterward he hasn't felt like pushing things beyond that. Hasn't wanted that himself. It's not that he's afraid to talk about what happened down there in the dark - he's afraid of very little these days. But it's heavy, it has weight and size, and he wants to hold it for a while. Meditate on it. Feel what it's done to him, and what it's still doing.

But at last he does want to know for himself. How she is.

He's out in mid-afternoon headed vaguely toward a coffee shop when he decides. Swinging out of foot traffic, he leans back against the end of a storefront and pulls out his cell phone. But calling feels too forward somehow.

it's mike, the text reads. wanna get coffee?