As before, she's very easy-to-adjust. Convenient.

She hums, just a bit. "Did you ever daydream about growing up to be an esper, as a kid?"

The question catches her off guard again. She's quiet for a long moment, turning it over.

"No." The word comes out flat. "I daydreamed about... other things. Being somewhere else. Someone else."

Becoming an esper had been an accident, not a dream.

"Did you?"

She nods thoughtfully, and suppresses the urge to give Vera a handsqueeze when she mentions wanting to be someone else. (She can definitely relate, though.)

"Oh, all the time. It was a pretty addictive fantasy, for me." She sighs, not unhappily.

She doesn't know what to do with that sigh. It sounds almost content. Like Cara's enjoying this, the conversation, the contact, despite everything.

Her phone buzzes. The delivery notification.

"Food's here." She doesn't move immediately, though. The warmth is comfortable, and her head is clearer than it's been in days. "I'll go get it. You stay here."

She extracts herself from Cara reluctantly, already feeling the loss of contact as a faint pressure building behind her eyes. She grabs her hoodie from yesterday, pulls it on.

"Don't touch the laptop. Don't answer the door if anyone else knocks."

Standard precautions. She heads out to grab the food from downstairs.

Cara nods agreeably, and waits to roll her eyes until Vera is safely out of the room.

Then she rolls out of bed, darts into the bathroom, and gets some water to take the HRT she actually needs to swallow. (Plus an extra few mouthfuls. Stay hydrated!) 

She wipes her mouth on her arm and climbs back into the position she was left in. 

(Now that she knows what she's looking for, she can feel her backlash building with the lost contact. It's... not an unpleasant sensation on its own, but the associations are definitely making her anxious. She focuses anyways, trying to probe the feeling as it ticks up.)

She grabs the food from the delivery driver without making eye contact, mutters something that might be thanks, and heads back upstairs. The pressure behind her eyes is already building - it's been less than five minutes and she can feel the absence of contact like an itch she can't scratch.

When she opens the door, Cara is exactly where she left her. Good.

She sets the food on the desk, then climbs back onto the bed, positioning herself so their shoulders touch. The relief is immediate, the pressure easing back to something manageable.

"Eat," she says, handing Cara the container of blueberry pancakes. "All of it."

She opens her own container - eggs, bacon, toast - and starts eating mechanically. The silence feels different now. Less tense. Almost companionable, if she squints.

The contact is a relief for her as well - she visibly relaxes a bit when Vera approaches, and more when their shoulders touch. 

Sheeee is going to have to think carefully about how much food she orders from a place, if Vera is going to give her instructions like that. She keeps the sigh inside her head.

She eats the pancakes methodically, since she doesn't want to spill anything on Vera's bed . They're good! A bit soggy, but good.

She finishes her eggs before Cara's even halfway through the pancakes. The portion is huge - way too much for someone Cara's size. She watches her work through it methodically, fork scraping against styrofoam.

"You don't have to finish if it's too much," she says after a moment. The words come out grudging, like she's annoyed at herself for saying them. "Just most of it. You need the calories for awakening." Probably.

She sets her empty container aside, then leans back against the headboard. The contact between their shoulders is grounding, keeping her thoughts from scattering.

"What do you normally do on Saturdays?"

It's not quite small talk. More like reconnaissance - figuring out what Cara's absence might look like to the people who know her.

Cara nods, but does end up eating about 3/4ths of the pancakes. Awakening is hungry work, apparently!

She carefully closes the box when she's finished and then finds herself leaning back as well, without really thinking about it.

"Social stuff, mostly? Parties, meetups, scheduled hangouts with people who have weekday jobs or homework loads heavier than mine... Occasionally my own homework, I guess, but I usually put it off till Sunday." Vera already made her cancel her calendar appointments for this weekend, though.

She's debating asking Vera about her Saturdays, but hasn't come up with a decision by the time she stops talking.

"Sounds exhausting." It comes out more bitter than she intended.

She doesn't elaborate. Doesn't mention that her own Saturdays are usually spent alone in this room, doing homework or scrolling through her phone or just existing. That she doesn't have parties to go to or friends to meet up with.

"We should reply to your exes at some point today. Before they decide to come looking for you."

Logistics. Ignore whatever else is crawling around in her chest right now.

Oh. She catches the bitterness and makes some inferences. Good thing she didn't ask.

She's trying to formulate a response, but Vera's change of topic breaks that train of thought. Ugh. How to respond to that...

She nods. "...to be clear, if they don't hear from me, they'll get worried, and maybe start texting Aunt Rachel in a few days? But they're not going to come back to Toronto to look for me this week. They're grad students, they don't have the spare time or money to travel on short notice like that." (And - they've obviously moved on more than she has, even if they care enough to reach out via text like this. But she doesn't think Vera wants to hear that.)

"Good." One less thing to worry about, at least. "But we're still replying. I don't want your aunt getting concerned messages about you."

She reaches for Cara's laptop, then pauses.

"Do you know what you're going to say? Or do you need-" She gestures vaguely. Time. Space. Whatever it is people need before talking to their exes about emotionally charged things.

She's not good at this. Doesn't know how to offer comfort without it feeling like a trap. But Cara falling apart again would be inconvenient, and the memory of those ragged sobs is still too fresh.

She shrugs minutely. "It's complicated. I thought up a few different ways I could respond, earlier, to get them to leave me alone this week. I just... kind of hate all of them?" 

She waits to see if Vera wants to hear more about this, or if it's a Cara problem.

She considers just telling Cara to figure it out herself. It's not her problem, not her exes, not her feelings.

But Cara crying again would be annoying. And she's curious. Maybe. About how someone like Cara thinks through these things. Someone who has people who care enough to reach out.

"Tell me." It comes out more like a command than an invitation, but she doesn't correct it. "The options you came up with. Why you hate them."

She shifts slightly, pressing their shoulders together more firmly. Practical. For the guiding.

...Oh. She... really wasn't expecting that. And now she doesn't have an option, because that was not a question!  

She counts off on her fingers.

One. "It would be really easy to just blow it up. A few rude emojis in response to Reve's apology, maybe an accusation of clout-chasing or similar. It would mess Reve up pretty badly, I think. And Mags would blame me for it, eventually, and she'd be right to." Slightly shaky breath. "It would fuck me up, doing that to them. I am a bit upset with Reve, but... she doesn't deserve that, and Mags really doesn't."

Two. "I could keep things distant but polite. Say I appreciate the concern, but I have it handled, and that I'll reach out if I need anything. Reve would get right away that I'm saying I don't really want them in my life anymore; Mags would reach out a few times before she got the picture. They might be sad about it, but they'd be fine." She sighs. "I don't want to push them away like that, though. I miss them."

She glances at Vera before she continues. 

She listens, watching Cara count off options on her fingers like she's solving a math problem. The clinical way she analyzes the emotional fallout of each choice is interesting. Familiar, almost.

"And the other options?" She keeps her voice flat, neutral. Not encouraging, exactly, but not shutting it down either.

The glance Cara gives her before continuing makes something twist in her stomach. Like Cara's checking to see if she's still allowed to talk. Like she's waiting for permission.

She doesn't give it explicitly. Just waits.

Three. (She adopts the bright and cheery voice she used last night on her drunk friend) "Reve, honey, it's okay, don't be sorry. I know how busy you two have been! I really appreciate you guys reaching out; right now I am getting the help I need here. If that changes and when I'm ready to talk about the esper stuff, you'll be the first to know, okay?" she gives a disgusted little laugh. "Doormat. Just like I was when we were dating. And it'd work great! Unless I ever wanted to have, like, any sort of genuine connection with them, in the future." Deep breath.

Four. "I could - actually try to figure out how to have that genuine connection. Be honest." A longer sigh, this time. "It's not a great option for getting them to leave me alone? Possibly there's some variant of this that lets me stall for time. But I don't really know how it goes, because I'm not. Used to doing that."

She's quiet for a long moment, processing. The way Cara lays out her options - the clinical analysis layered over raw hurt - is like watching someone dissect their own heart and narrate the procedure.

"What would honest even look like?" She doesn't mean it as a challenge, exactly. More like genuine confusion. "You can't tell them the truth. About any of this."

She gestures vaguely at the room, at the two of them pressed together on the bed. At everything.

"So what's the version of honest that doesn't involve..." She trails off. Doesn't want to say me. Doesn't want to acknowledge that she's the reason Cara can't just pick up the phone and call her exes and cry about how hard awakening is.

Cara actually looks surprised at this. "Oh, I didn't mean honest about any of this, sorry. I meant..." how to put this...

"...honest about how I feel about what Reve is apologizing for. About how bad the last 6 weeks were for me. Being honest about that would mean - talking a lot about, like, what kind of relationship with me they have space and energy for, and figuring out if that's actually something I'm okay with." 

...okay, laying it out like this makes the stalling variant obvious. "...which would be an insane conversation to try and have during an esper awakening, so I could just say 'Don't worry, I'm not alone; I'm getting help. I really appreciate the apology and the offer, but I am still kind of fucked up about -'" she waves her free arm vaguely "'- everything that happened, can we talk more about it once hell week is over and I know what my life will look like?' I think that would work? Probably. I don't hate it."

She turns that over in her head. It's not bad, actually. Acknowledges the feelings without diving into them. Buys time without burning bridges. Gives Cara something to work with after this week is over, when Vera never has to see her again.

The thought sits wrong in her chest. She ignores it.

"That works." She shifts slightly, their shoulders still pressed together. "Write it up. I'll look it over before you send."

Standard procedure by now. She watches Cara's face, looking for something. Relief, maybe. Or that careful blankness she puts on when she's trying not to have feelings about things.

"And after that, we're done with the exes for today. You can check other messages, but nothing else from them until tomorrow."

It's not kindness. It's practicality. Cara falling apart twice in one morning would be exhausting for both of them.

(It's a mixture of relief and muted happiness - the careful blankness is reserved for when she's afraid of punishment for having feelings, and she hasn't gotten any of that, today.)

She nods agreeably, and starts typing.

Hey you two - thanks for reaching out. Awakening is scary, but I'm in good hands here. 

She types out "I met someone new and they've been really helpful." and then highlights it, looking at Vera. "I don't need to put this here, but they'd find it reassuring. Up to you."

She reads the highlighted text, frowning slightly. "Met someone new" implies things. Things that aren't entirely wrong, but aren't right either.

"Fine. Leave it." She shifts, watching Cara type. "But don't make it sound like we're dating or whatever. Just someone helping you through awakening."

She's not sure why she's agreeing. Maybe because it's true enough - she is helping, in her own fucked up way. Or maybe because she doesn't want Cara's exes thinking she's completely alone. That would raise more questions than it answers.

"Keep going."

She leaves it as-is. "They won't get 'dating' from this, I would talk about that super differently."

Reve, I really appreciate the apology. I - don't think I can really process it and respond properly while I'm awakening. Can we come back to this once my brain works again, and I know what my life is going to look like?

She frowns consideringly. "I guess that technically tells them that my backlash is mental and not physical, but I think that's fine?"

She reads over the message, considering. Mental backlash covers a lot of ground - anything from memory issues to mood swings to whatever the hell Cara's actually dealing with. It's vague enough not to be a problem.

"That's fine." She nods at the screen. "Finish it."

She's watching Cara's face more than the words now. The way she frowns when she's thinking, the careful way she phrases things. It's strange, being on this side of a conversation - watching someone navigate emotional minefields instead of just... not having people to navigate them with.

She pushes the thought away. Not relevant.

-she notices Vera's eyes on her and heroically resists making eye contact or otherwise reacting.

Until then, take care of each other, okay? I'll reach out if I need anything.

"I think that's good. Okay to send?"