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Otto slowed in his drinking for the time being, taking casual sips of the beer he held now. "Like in Halloween?" He remarked, swaying lightly in the breeze as if his head felt heavier. "Just existing for ages and ages. When you reach a breaking point, you just reform and try again."

Alex insisted that in itself was suffering. But suffering meant living. Good and bad. Pain and Delight. One and the other.

"She was my other half." He mumbled mournfully. "I needed her, and she just... died."

Otto looked to America, considering her question for a moment. "Yeah.." Softly he replied, his gaze drifting out over the cliff. "I went in to it knowing she might die. But..."

He recalled all the wonderful times he'd had with her. She treated him like a real boyfriend. She made him feel amazing.

"But it was worth it. I'm angry at her for dying.. and I hate feeling so hurt. But it was so god to feel loved and wanted, and being able to love and want her back. It was never one sided... and I just.." He wished he could have it again. He wanted her back, but as time passed, he knew how unreasonable it was to wish for the dead to rise.

"I miss her. But I don't... I don't regret falling for her."

Otto cringed at the tentacle, almost forgetting those suckers were down there in the depths at all. He chucked his own bottle down below and flopped back onto the grass.

"Yeah..." She'd been suffering. Her mind and body dying. He wished she'd just tried to fix herself. Tried harder. Tried to survive. He survived a lot. He wasn't sure how. Was it luck, or the opposite? Could he consider himself lucky to continue living as he watched others fall...

He was reminded of her letter. She'd loved him. So why then.. why did she give up? He'd never die on her. He'd find a way. He hand a cursed key in his hand, he had scars marring his body, he had nightmares and phobias and suffered daily. But he always continued to live.

For that one moment, Otto actually felt like he was strong. He went through Hell, but he didn't give up. He'd come close so often, but he'd had...

Tenya.

"Nevada didn't have her weapon." Otto murmured, as if realizing something. "It was dead for months. I know whenever I'm at my lowest, Tenya kicks my a** back into gear... Maybe she hit her lowest.. and just didn't have that second voice to kick her back to reality."

Was his love not enough for her?

"I guess there's no sense in me wishin' I could been that for her. I mean... there's no fixin' what's past." He was working himself into a frenzy over things he could not change. He knew it was stupid and useless. The haze of the heavier booze was gone, and it was becoming clearer he couldn't lament over his inabilities anymore.

He'd known she would die. He'd had the chance to prepare, and he chose not to accept it instead. It was his own fault he was a wreck.

"It's scary to think our lives are so reliant on our weapons."

"True that." He murmured back. They were super humans, with their weapon bonds. It was easy to take for granted. They were simply another psart of themselves, like she said. Heart. Lungs. Weapon.

"Eva?" He tilted his head to the side to face America, his eyes lidded in thought before turning back up again. "No.. I haven't seen her in a long while." Not since he'd made up with her. It wasn't unusual. She was simply never around the same places he was. They orbited the Earth in different planes. Like a couple lost in a mall, always missing each other. Star crossed and never meant to meet.

When everything hurt and felt so raw, so focused on the pain and loss of today, he'd neglected to wonder past that. Logically, tomorrow would come, and the day after. A time when it wouldn't hurt so badly.

Could he love again?

Nevada pleaded that he go on, in her letter. Still, she just seemed so perfect. A perfect fit. Everything came easily. But having her, and feeling what it had been like to love someone like they had... He missed her, and he missed having that. Now that he'd had it.. He didn't want to go without again.

"I wanna feel that way again." He admitted easily, the haze of beer and the crisp air bringing him clarity. "I dunno if I'll find it.. but I want it."

"Yeah... you're probably right." He would never be the same Otto he was. He was always changing, adapting. He'd hit lows, to points where all he wanted to do was give up. But at his core, he was a survivor. To others, maybe even a sucker for punishment. But one thing was certain, he would never allow himself to give up or give in to the awful circumstances of his life.

It often felt like his existence revolved around pain and suffering, with small breaths of air called Love in between.

"Thanks for today, 'Murica. I needed it."