[ He watches her opening and closing her hand out of the corner of his eye, and now that it seems like she's mostly settled - reaches out to take it again, threading their fingers back together. ]

Should've seen me six or seven years ago.

[ He'd never been a natural loner, maybe, but there'd been a time when he sure as hell wanted to be alone. When he pushed people away and kept to himself and lashed out at anyone who tried to come close. ]

Not only that. But no, I don't think it's a bad thing.

[ He's quiet for a long moment, thinking over what he's going to say next. How he's going to approach the kind of support he'd had - and after a moment, he just goes with blunt and honest. ]

I had a therapist. Had a few, actually, just most of them I wanted to punch. But I had one that made sense, that made me want to listen. And I went to support groups, for people like me who didn't know how to leave the past behind them, who'd forgotten what it meant to live, to be happy. Then I started leading them.