[When the ringing settles, bottoms out, and dies away at last, he glances back at her and squeezes her hand. The look on her face isn't exactly happy, but it's a little better, and he finds himself painfully glad of that. There's so little that he can do for someone like Anya, who is entangled and complex in a way opposite himself. But the sensation is still there, that he's still getting used to: he wants to help. He does give a damn, most of the time.]
[Sometimes destroying things, little things, can make it so much easier to build everything else up.]
[There's debris on the ground. He doesn't move to pick it up, or even to stand. He just smiles at her, hoping to receive a smile in return.]
[spam]
[Sometimes destroying things, little things, can make it so much easier to build everything else up.]
[There's debris on the ground. He doesn't move to pick it up, or even to stand. He just smiles at her, hoping to receive a smile in return.]