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[Blue has never shied away from telling anyone her wish. The specifics change each time she ruminates on it, thoughts blended together in a whirlwind, a kaleidescope of desires. She imagines a patio with an iron wrought table, two teacups and a plate of scones. She imagines clockwork gears that keep time, chimes calling out the hour with delicate peals. She imagines sights and smells and tastes--so many tastes, she would have to make sure--and no single facet is more cherished than another...]

[Except for one. There is one constant that she omits in each telling, lifting a teacup in that idyllic garden, winding the clockwork that keeps their time, tasting each dish prepared for her. Home, for her, is not a place but a person.]

Not in so many words, but yes. It was more a feeling. A desire that I've known for a long time.

I still enjoy travel; I don't think I'll ever stop. But I would like a place (figuratively) to unfurl, like rose petals at dawn. A trellis to stretch out upon, to reach my vines out and up towards the sky. A shared place, where I am both seeing and seen.

[ ... ]

It's so cruel that he would abuse a wish like that.

[ Because even though this is just text, Inigo does like to think he knows Blue well enough to be able to tell that what she's laying out here is so genuine - that it's something she truly wants.

And Vaeros was dangling it in front of her, likely without any intention of ever actually giving it to her. That's awful. No one should do something like that. Especially to Blue, who seems to have so little if this is something she can only dream of. ]

It's not like you were asking him for much. That is something everyone deserves to have.

[Something everyone deserves to have...]

[Blue's thoughts trail like vines from herself to Red to the other agents that scurry ant-like across the strands of time, up thread and down thread, laden with direction and driven by purpose... Even the most exceptional of them (herself, and Red) aren't exceptions to the machinations of war. The promise of victory always lingers just out of reach, a mirage of an oasis in a desert of violence.]

[She wonders if any of the others have ever felt too tired to care, too in need of a place to rest that doesn't hinge on usefulness to a Sisyphean war. She wonders if Red has ever shared this thought of hers, the way she had mirrored so many unspoken words before. The thought that she might, or that she might not, is a knot that winds itself endlessly through her heart.]

[But in the end, she is left knowing only what she knows.]

I agree.

But I never asked for his help, regardless of his insistence. Even before his death, his promises were only noise to me, as I'm sure you remember.

If there is a home to be made, then I will make it.

That said... I'd like to show it to you. One day.

[ It's nice to read that Blue still has hope, at least. There's not many things worse than a total lack of hope to Inigo - and considering how much he wants Blue to have this in her life, he's glad that she still believes it possible. Or that she's at least determined enough to make it, if possible.

But then.. that last part.. ]

Of course. If it's possible, I would like to see it. It would be a place very important to you, after all.

[ So it would be important to him too, he means. ]

It might take a lot for me to be able to see it though, depending on the circumstances.

[It would be a place important to her, it's true. Important in a way that no other place or time has ever been or ever would be.]

[His hesitance to promise her this with his typical enthusiasm is palpable. If it's possible. Depending on the circumstances. She braces herself to be reminded that she cannot keep him.]

What would it take, do you imagine?

[ There's a slight pause.

It's not that Inigo doesn't know. It's not a thoughtful pause. It's instead more hesitating - knowing how she feels about these matters, and wanting to be both delicate yet honest about it.

It's a difficult mix though. More than anything, he doesn't want to hurt her. Not when they were instead thinking about what a perfect home would be for her - a much better topic, in his opinion. ]

I would need to know my world is alright.

[ Even if it's technically no longer his. It still needs to be alright. The past versions of his father, his mother, his sister-- They all have to be happy. That other Inigo has to be able to grow up happily, because Inigo can't imagine himself being able to live without that knowledge, without having seen it with his own eyes. ]

And then I would need a way to get to your world. And also figure out how I'm going to exist, if I'm still able to. [ Maybe that's the only possible mixture of honesty and delicacy. Being honest, but not presenting it as a total impossibility either. ]

[A long delay follows.]

[It's not outside her ability to ensure that Inigo's world is safe. She dislikes the thought of it existing without him, but if he were to persist regardless, if he were to be extracted from it... She's never done something like that before, but there's a first for everything.]

[The second stipulation might be harder, and the third... The third gives her the most pause. She wonders if he realizes how he sounds. She wonders if he understands how similar they really are.]

If you were able to, would you want to exist? Tell me honestly.

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