awaken flower; spring has come {mickey/kass}

As he waited, he thought of Alphabet and Hanaa, and where they would lie in the tribute graveyard. He thought of Alphabet's eyes, and how he'd only gotten to see them when they were full of fear. So capable, once upon a time. And he thought of Hanaa's smile, and how he hadn't ever gotten to see it without the threat of death breathing down her neck.

This room, these walls— there were ghosts looming around each corner. Room 403 was where they'd kept Zion. 394 hadn't even had time to clean up after Diana's late arrival. 393 was where they'd taken Lex and Angel after the announcement.

390. The exact room that Mackenzie Pryce had woken up in three years ago, Jacinta's hand in his own: watchful eyes willing him awake.

He stared up at the numbers on the door, bold and engraved on a simple black plate. They told him she was in there; yet again he had no idea why he'd bothered to come. Not when Alphabet would never see peace again, and not when Hanaa's smile would be bookmarked in history with a tinge of fear around its edges. Not when this girl, this child deserved to live just as much as everyone else. The only difference was that she had, and though he wanted to, Mackenzie could not blame her.

The nurse this year was older, with crows feet and a familiar warm feeling that was unique to her as a Capitolite. No modifications, no artifice that he could see. Just a middle-aged woman with a smile that made him suspect she had children of her own.

"She's coming to, if you'd like to come in."

It was practically learned behavior: forgiveness. Nico had been the reason Diana didn't leave with a pulse and Mackenzie still held his hand when he cried. He walked through the door and crept up to Kassandra's bedside. He tucked a teddy bear holding a red rose in next to her and took a seat, allowing the silence so he could find something to say.

"I remember being scared of waking up," he said, voice hoarse. He cleared his throat. "Afraid that reality could somehow get worse, I guess. Sometimes it is worse."

A single moment of pause.

"But something that it took me a long time to understand is that you can't stop it. The world will keep spinning. And it doesn't—" he sat up on the edge of his seat, folding his hands around over his forehead for support, "It doesn't get better, but it gets easier."

She was so young, so tarnished and full of scars. They'd never release her to the public until she was healed as best as she could be; Mackenzie could only see every mark as proof of her willingness to survive.

"I'm a stranger, and you don't have any reason to trust me, but, um... I understand. And I'm here if you need someone."