Two years now, and some wounds just never seemed to heal completely. They lingered, irreparable damage that could hide away, unnoticed for days, months at a time, before it came rushing back on the eve of some newer trauma. Once upon a time she had longed to forget, to simply rid herself of every trace of memory that lasted, even as she worked to rebuild and revitalize the life she'd come back to. But you couldn't run from your past, no longer how far, how fast. It was there, painted like scars upon the mind. She could forgive, but she couldn't forget.

Did she truly want to forget?

Not anymore. Now she clung to what remained, turned it inward, tried to grew. Certainly it influenced her, the way she cared for her flock, the alliances she forged, the connections she held so tightly. It wasn't the way she had been when she'd joined the Negaverse, but there was no going back to that now. She cared, she loved, and it was his fault.

It could not be other than that, and she had given up fighting against it long ago.

Tonight had been a long time coming. A desire that had been born very shortly after return to the city, but for one reason or another, it had taken this long to finally go through with it. A tribute, immortalizing something of great influence. Someone. She owed him that much. She owed him so much more than that.. She would have saved him, if she could, but that failure still rested as a lead weight in the center of her body. Bitter, metallic, relentless.

She'd failed him. She'd lost him. And she would wear his memory upon her back now, and always. His lessons had always been there, the ones he'd meant to give, and the ones that had come after. She wouldn't fail anyone else.

She wouldn't lose anyone else.

Couldn't lose anyone else.

The pain of the needles thrusting ink beneath her skin was nothing to the pain of loss. Bring it on, make it numb. Replace one with the other.

Most of the time it was easy, Porsha could move through the world she had made for herself, surrounded by those she had brought beneath her wings. Happy, in spite of the shaky handling within the dark kingdom's ranks. She had her family, her team, and they gave her strength and purpose.

But every so often, it came back to her. Be it an event, a worry, a word. It always came back.


So she would carry him always.

On her back.