Your routine adds a new element, sometimes you eat lunch with Cas sometimes Joel. You consider Joel a friend, though you're unsure where he stands. You now maybe have 2 friends.

"He's quite the cook." You're in the back office of the stables with Cas having lunch. It's cold in the office, march's winter refuses to let up. You're bundled up in your coat.

"I wouldn't imagine that for him," Cas replies passively, picking at her sandwich.

"Yeah, clever about it too."

"I guess you must have to get clever when you avoid the lunch hall like the plague." Cas pointed out.

"I'm not sure how those things connect?" You frown at her, unable to catch her tone. She had a lot of these unreadable moments, often blunt and she was never really one to spare feelings.

"He never goes, usually the food there isn't sold out to people. Yeah, people make stuff at home— ie this sad tomato sandwich" she holds up the limp bread "but they keep the hearty stuff for the hall."

"Oh."

She shrugs, "he's still adjusting too I'd imagine; it took me a long time to get fully comfortable."

"I feel like I'm pretty well adjusted."

"Says who?"

You mildly gape at her, letting a small laugh out. "Me I say."

"No." She replies simply.

You laugh again, "I'm better than I was."

"Yeah, that's true, you're softer."

"Pardon?"

"You're softer, I can see you getting more comfortable. Though I think the stable boys still scare you."

"Not a huge fan, they make me feel old."

"Listen, me too, but it's nice, isn't it?"

"What?"

"For that to be one of your biggest problems?"

"The stable boys being young?"

"No, no normal things, like before."

"I guess?"

"Like of course everyone's worried about impending doom, but it's nice to worry about what you'll pick for lunch over it, you know?"

You nod at her; she doesn't have a particular way with words, but you understand the gist. It's the bizarre growing pains of assimilating back into a society. No longer needing to be in a constant state of fight or flight.

"What do you two even talk about? "

Most of your lunches with Joel tended to be silent, but now being confronted with that fact it felt like it was odd. But only odd when presenting the idea to Cas. It didn't feel weird, you had an understanding between each other, better than being alone.

You shrug at her. "Mostly about before, what we used to do."

"I don't think I've ever had a full conversation with him, at least one that didn't involve work."

"He went to your card party." You pointed out.

"I think he went more for Ellie."

"Who does he hang around then?"

"Some of the other patrol people, his brother. He's not as much as a recluse as he likes to have people think. Though I think it's a push and pull thing."

"How so?"

"The transitioning, the want to be social but just not being able to fully do it."

"That's disgustingly relatable, Cas."

She shrugs. "I mean that's what I get from him at least, this is the most I've ever thought about him. But you two making friends makes sense."

"Sure."

"But I'm glad you are, it's good to branch out."

You hum in response.

—

He's sitting there again, the dog. Only he's older, more of what you remember of him. You take in your surroundings, it's the Kronos hike trail. The air is humid and thick, there's a soft buzz of the bugs. You don't like to hike in the thicker woods in the summer, the bugs can get nasty. But he's getting older, this may be the last time he can really come with you. He's panting heavy, you pull around your water bottle, the bottle has an orange tint to it. The dog drinks it all the same. 

You turn to Brandon to tell him something, he was on the hike too. But when you turn it's not him, or not exactly. Not as you remember, he changed like the dog did. Brandon's eyes are fixated on you there's grey in his hair, he was older than you, that makes sense. But not this much older, it feels off, but you just assume it's just something you haven't noticed about him. The ground suddenly pulls up around you twisting the trees with it. The sky disappears and you're in your childhood bedroom, he's there too.

There's discontent on his face, you sometimes wonder if he ever even really liked you. You feel the love but sometimes there's an emptiness to it. The scratching at the door becomes overwhelming, you let the dog in. Brandon doesn't like this; dogs are dirty, and the dog might get on the bed. But the dog can't anymore he's too old, Brandon ignored that fact. You fought about it once, recalling the memory strains you, you need to lay down. Brandon sits at the edge of the bed watching as you drift off.

—

Waking up was hard this morning, the dream replays in your mind. They had gotten increasingly fast paced, making them harder to remember. This time you were prepared, having bought a small notebook you jotted down the dream quickly. This particular dream featured a new character, though there was only ever two— your mother and the dog. But last night it featured Brandon, who if you were being poetic was your first (and only) love. But to put it politically correct, he was a scaly beast of nightmares.

It had been years since you had last thought of him. It felt like trying to open an old scar, clawing at the old wound. The raw feelings were still beneath. Here you are soon hitting your mid forties and you're thinking of an ex-boyfriend whose existence at this point in time was nothing but a bad memory. Concluding that you'd hadn't thought about him because there wasn't anything to think anymore. Why he decided to make an appearance in a dream was beyond you, and you hoped he stayed away.

Shoving your notebook and pencil back into the drawer, you rose for the day. Allowing the shower to run a little longer.

You pulled on a fresh outfit, a forrest green sweater with some black cargo pants that cinched around your boots. Since being able to go and pick out some more clothes yourself. You started to feel a bit more normal. You braided your hair down your back, threw on your winter gear and headed out the door. The first step outside was once again greeted by kicking another bag. You took a step further into the hallway to see if the mystery courier was still around— no such luck. You grabbed the paper bag up and brought it inside. Silently hoping it was breakfast, so you didn't have to eat at the hall today.

You dumped the contents onto the bed, you took a step back to really take it in. Neatly bundled together were two balls of red yarn, one of which has a crochet hook stuck deep in the crimson. You gaped, gently picking up the yarn to hold it to your face. It was unbelievably soft— this was some of Hilde's dyed wool yarn. It was beautiful. You picked up the second ball, it had a small piece of paper stuck under the starting strand. You plucked the note out and unfolded the small piece of paper.

Found some tea, maybe you'll find some time -J.

Tears formed in your eyes, you let them take over. Streaming down your cheeks and crawling down your neck into your sweater. The kindness was overwhelming, you sat on the bed and let out a heave. You let yourself sit there, tears hot for an insurmountable amount of time. You needed the cry, it was about the kind act, yes but there was so much more washing over. Crying about how fast things had changed, the painful memories you revisited in your dreams. The overwhelming lingering loneliness. Making a new friend, the grief of your brother, things you didn't even know you needed to cry about. You let it all out, let it fall out.

It's a naked a raw feeling, you almost laugh to yourself. The breakneck speed of it all, the memories of old or surviving alone had yet to fade. They were still there, in small ways. The needing to know every exit, the food you had squirreled under your bed. You backpack packed ready to go at a moments notice. Yes, there was normalcy here but the feelings and needs of survival lingered. The innate want to get close to people but not allowing yourself. The worry of losing anyone, Cas you were already worried about. But Joel had been different, the bizarre silent understanding between each other. You enjoyed each others company nothing more nothing less. But now it felt like more. This tiny act of kindness, now you had to worry about Joel.

Your brother had once told you that categorizing people so simply could be dangerous. You adored him and his infinite wisdom, but this was something you needed to be over simplified. At least until you could get your bearings and make a few goddamn friends.

You let the tears flow, quieting your mind in the hopes of it stopping. You didn't dare check the clock, knowing you were already late, and you'd be missing breakfast. Standing up from the bed in which you had just laid for an unknown amount of time weeping there was a perfect indent of your body. The bathroom sink creaked and sputtered to life, you took a small washcloth, dampened it and wiped your hot cheeks. You chanced a look at yourself in the mirror— you were unsurprisingly disheveled. You brushed down your hair with your hands and held the cloth to your face in hopes of getting rid of the redness. Literally and figuratively, you threw in the towel and headed out. Knowing you'd definitely be talking to Joel today, you needed to (to thank him of course) and you genuinely wanted to.

Getting to the stables you were still unaware of the time, but the sun was almost fully up. You were the latest you had ever been.

Cas's voice cut through your thoughts. "Jesus, are you okay? You look awful." She rounded the corner of the end stables and quickened her pace towards you.

"Oh, I'm fine, rough morning." You brushed your hair back down again attempting to rake your fingers through it. (To no avail)

"Clearly." You crossed her arms.

"Thanks." You have her a mournful look, still treading lightly. She was still your boss.

"Did you want to talk about it?" A flash of concern flashed across her face as she neared, now standing in front of you.

"Maybe later, just weird dreams I don't particularly like." You shrug meekly.

She nods, her face now hardening back into boss-mode. "Well, I'm here when you're ready. I was getting worried when you didn't show, if you need anything give a holla?"

You nod.

She reaches out and puts her hand lightly on your shoulder. You don't let yourself flinch, though the urge is there. You can't remember the last time someone touched you with kindness. Her hand stays for a moment, she retracts, nods again and disappears into the stable offices.

The rest of the day goes relatively smoothly, you don't tell Cas about the crying, but you relay a few of the strange dreams.

"I can't remember the last time I had a dream." Cas is in her office chair eating her signature tomato sandwich. "Or you know, remembered having a dream."

"The only reason I've been remembering them is because I've been writing them down when I wake.

"Man, I wonder what they mean. Ya know? It feels like maybe your brain is trying to tell you something, but it only can be deciphered through riddles."

"Oh god don't tell me that. I don't want any brain riddles."

She shrugs, "but I am sorry they upset you." She peeks over at you.

You shrug back. "It's fine," You lightly chuckle. "I just wish they'd stop sometimes. I think they've been more vivid because I've been actually sleeping."

"Ah, I understand."

You ate the rest of your lunches idly chit chatting.

The rest of the day continued to go smoothly, you started to get a little anxious as the day winded down. Not out of fear but you felt excited to talk with Joel. You had an excuse to thank him, to talk with him. Lunches were often impromptu, though routine. You didn't have them that often, and you could feel the excitement rise in you.

You saw him come in with his horse out of the corner of your eye. You quickly turned as he dismounted and pulled the horse into her stall.

"Joel!" You called out to him.

The felling of this action was comfortable, the need to get his attention and have it.