im on anonymous because im incredibly shy but jack, for a long time i have related to you and your struggles in some degree, especially with trauma. you make me feel better that despite this, you actually keep going and you still have hope left to go back to your time, and it really... it really makes me feel better
It was drizzling this time. A light sheet of cold blanketing itself over the clearing of dying grass. The sun peeked lazily through the haze of gray clouds, not yet ready to show its face.
The lone warrior sought shelter under the branches of a shedding tree, both standing collectively stood by itself in the middle of the field. The shelter, however, was sparse, thus offering little to protect him from the precipitation. The wetness did not bother him much, no, but the chill did. It always had.
His device cried its familiar chime from its place in his back pocket. For whatever reason–perhaps because of the weather’s mood, or perhaps because of his own mood–the sound was plaintive, small, as if it was having a particularly bad day. It was understandable, since these kinds of electronics did not take kindly to water. He took it out and turned it on.
The messages left him speechless, despite him being generally so. The screen of his device was cluttered with people urging him on to not lose hope. It was…almost awe-inspiring, to see how strongly they were holding onto their hopes in hopes of aiding him in his mental struggle. He could vaguely remember, in the vast vestiges of his troubled mind, his father’s voice, reminding him that he was not alone in this fight or in the next. And he was grateful.
He turned off the device.
Pattering droplets struck the surface of his helmet, increasing in volume as the coming storm intensified. Jack removed his helmet and faced the sky, eyes closed. The soft rumble of his voice escaped his throat.
“Your kindnesses…never cease to amaze me. Even from afar, your words grant solace.”
He said to the din of raindrops, which answered him with nothing but loud hushing.