Jack watched as the girl wobbled on the freshly frozen lake.  He wanted to make sure the ice stayed thick enough for skating.  More importantly, to him at least, he liked that the girl's ineptitude at ice skating gave him a nostalgic feeling of the time he was human.  She trembled, and slid slowly. Then she wavered awkwardly, and one foot kicked up strangely, and she shot off quickly. She slammed her foot down to try and gain some footing, and only managed to boost her speed and lean forward.  She lurched back to try and gain her balance. Her feet flew up, and she landed on her back.

Jack laughed.  He'd been there.  Struggling to walk across ice without the ability to stick to it effortlessly.  Without being able to float or hover or fly as he pleased. Just Jack being human and having human things.  God, how he missed it! He missed visibility. He missed the heartbeat, the warmth he had, the people. The people…  He still felt an ache when he thought of his friends. He always would; he knew it.

Here, watch the human trip and get up with such fierce determination, and then get her feet tangled wrong and do it again, he felt a strange reconnection.  This was no rare occurrence. Often if he observed a human that was alone, he found he felt human again. He was told he was made for human interaction, one of a kind.  Perhaps, after being human, and being around them for so long, the heartbeat long gone lingered as a ghost. Perhaps this feeling was some form of love. He couldn't remember quite what it felt like the first time, it was so long ago.  Maybe this was it once again? He hoped it so.

The girl stumbled again.  Jack sighed, and flew over to her, grabbing her arms and balancing her before she could topple down again.  “Silly human,” he giggled, though she would not hear. Hovering protectively over her, he continued to correct her movements when she messed up.  Eventually, he found she was learning, and after she caught herself before he did, he knew she was fine on her own. She was immensely more graceful now, though she still had a lot to learn.  She smiled, laughed, and skated all around the frozen lake. It made him feel warm. It felt so human. The strange feeling he remembered. The warmth. Not from him, though; never from him. Not this time.  He was content with it, and he supposed that's what mattered. It occurred to him that maybe, even when he had been human, that perhaps the warmth was never him or his heartbeat. Maybe it came from those around him instead.