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Simon suddenly heard a voice he recognised outside. He hadn't recognised enough since they'd woken him up, and it unsettled him, but this he was certain of. "Yes. I want."
The medic in the doorway sprang aside to let Lady Alys pass, and then at a slight gesture stepped out and closed the door. Simon looked at her. It was hard to be sure now, but she seemed less elegant than usual, her face tired and lined, her dress a little crumpled. As if she'd just been through something very long and very stressful.
"Simon?" she said. "How are you feeling?"
"Strange," he answered honestly. "I don't ... they took the chip out." He paused. "It was breaking, wasn't it? I remember ... some of it."
Alys sat down on the side of his bed. "Yes."
"Everything is hazy," he said. But even as he said it, one thing was not at all hazy. The events of the last thirty years were gone, removed from his head, and thirty years of emotions were suddenly all that was left. And this woman was at the centre of a great many of those emotions. "You were there," he said softly, and he wasn't sure whether he meant in the nightmarish weeks that had just ended or in the whole of his life. "You were there."
Alys was watching him closely, a little line between her eyes, and he wondered whether he was being coherent. It was hard to be sure when he couldn't go back and check what he had just said. "I was," she said. "My dear, perhaps you should rest a bit now."
Not very coherent, in all likelihood, then. Simon smiled anyway. "If you'll stay," he said. "Please."
"Of course." Her hand crept out and found his. Simon's smile widened. He sat up properly, feeling lightheaded in more ways than one.
"I'm free now," he murmured.
He knew she understood when her hand closed tightly around his. He pulled her in. "Alys," he said softly. "I have no idea what they've done to my head yet. But... I do know what I want. Do you?"
"Yes," she breathed. "Oh yes."