(Untitled)

[crazedingly]

[Del is sitting on the ground, staring at her feet. She's surrounded by drawings; there's Barnabas and Russia (her Russia, not the new Russia who said he'll be her friend but who isn't the Russia she knew) and Destruction and Dream, all standing around and smiling in a field of flowers and butterflies. The butterflies are flying around her and the

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[didiedingly]

[Just sits down next to Del, wrapping one arm around her and plucking the vodka out of her hand with the other]

Do you want to talk to me about it, Del? I'm worried about you.

[crazedingly]

I...I...Russia...my doggie...

[Bursts into tears]

[didiedingly]

[Reaching over to draw a handkerchief into existence, hugging Del close]

They can still come back, you know. Neither of them are dead, and nor's the Prodigal.

What's happened to Ivan?

[crazedingly]

[Buries her face in the handkerchief]

He's here but he's not him. He won't be for so long.

[didiedingly]

People change, but they're still the same people really.

What's wrong with him?

[crazedingly]

He doesn't know me.

[didiedingly]

[Hugs moar!]

Then you'll just have to let him get to know you again.

[crazedingly]

But I miss him.