She remembers him, at least, even if she doesn't seem to remember the last few days. He can't blame her--he's had fevers like that, dreams of demons on his chest, much heavier than the blankets his mother had piled there while he slept. Dreams that didn't even come true, fevers that burned him closer to normal, where the mind could be a thing that just held you down for no reason, raked leaves and mulch over, left you choking in the dark.

He hasn't had the kind of dream that came true since the morning Ty left, and he hopes he never does again. If he could just stop sensing people, get some kind of shield back, he'd mind this place much less.

Lifting his other hand from the water, he touches the tip of a nail to the bruise's edge, as if remembering it's there. Her reaction says she remembers something, the feeling running down in her shadow and spilling into the water from her feet. "You didn't remember who I was," he says, excusing her even as he confirms. "You were in some kind of panic, you only did it once." The nail becomes the tip of his finger, testing once before he drops it back under the water. "Don't do it again and we're square?"