Sometimes, it all wants to come out. And better this than the other. He so rarely talks about any of it, and there are times he just wants to scream it out from the nearest rooftop.

He can't, and won't. But God, silence can be hard. And he doesn't feel any better when he's said it, because there are no solutions, and now he feels bad for having dumped even that small amount on her.

So he shakes his head, but doesn't pull his hand away.

'Thanks. But you already have a me, there.'

No world deserves more than one of Him.

'And I can't complain. They haven't managed to lock me up yet, back home.'