There's a strange energy about Vex, afterwards, a crackling wildfire of emotion that seems an awful lot like fear. Pike knows the feeling, a bit, so she's been hanging around as much as she can. It's not much help, but she figures it'll have to do for now.

"You were brought back at the whim of the deity of second chances and redemption," Vex says one day, a propos of nothing. "That seems about as poetically perfect as you could ever hope for."

"Yeah," Pike says, swallowing a giggle at the sheer weirdness of the situation—hanging back a little while their friends march on ahead so they can chat amiably about their more-than-near-death experiences. Just another totally normal day. "I mean, it makes sense. And I guess I did have a feeling through the whole thing that I just wasn't done, you know? So I came back to do more. Which had its own set of problems, because I keep feeling like I haven't done enough."

Vex smiles, but she's clearly distracted; Pike finds herself actually having to slow down to keep pace with her, which takes some doing. "Well, I can't say I have that problem," she says, in a tone of voice that seems about as brittle as a thin sheet of ice over some fathomless depth. "I don't remember a thing about being dead. And it's my understanding that I was brought back at the behest of the Raven Queen and... and Vesh, the horrific deity Kashaw's terrified of. So that's about ninety kinds of reassuring."

"Was he really that frightened of her?"

Vex shrugs. "I had to corner Grog for the details because everybody else either changes the subject or changes the subject by leaving the room, so take it with a grain of salt and all, but apparently Kash almost didn't carry out the ritual because of the potential consequences."

Pike mulls that over, searching for an appropriate response, and finally settles on, "Yikes."

"Pretty much." Vex stops, then, like a toy finally winding down, and kneels to fiddle with the straps of one boot. "Kash seemed to think that bringing me back might've drawn Vesh's attention. And Vax..."

Pike only sees the tears hitting the dirt because she's been waiting for them; she glances up to where Grog is looking back at them over his shoulder, and waves for the rest of the group to keep walking.

Vex, perceptive as always, glances up in time to see the hand-motion, and blows out a heavy breath. "I'm sorry, Pike, I'm being stupid—"

In a moment of frankly divine inspiration, Pike darts forward and tugs half the clasps loose on Vex's boot, then steps back, hands on hips, while Vex stares at her in utter confusion. "No hurry," Pike says. "You'll do yourself an injury with your boots like that, if you're not careful."

Vex smiles, and there are a couple lines where tears have streaked down her face, sure, but it's a good smile that shows her teeth and crinkles the sides of her eyes so that Pike has a pretty good picture of what she'll look like in twenty, thirty, forty years. It's the kind of smile that gets as close as possible to giving a guarantee of those years, which Pike thinks might just be the best part of it.

"It's the consequences," Pike says, wrenching herself with an effort back to the conversation at hand. "That's what's eating you up."

Vex sets to work on the clasps, dexterous fingers moving slowly and deliberately, killing time. "I don't know the cost yet, I guess. That's what's bothering me. If it really had been—" She swallows down more tears, more words. "—a life for a life, I think I could've someday started on a path that would let me come to terms with it. It's this not-knowing." She shakes her head, looks up, smiles again, a little self-deprecating. "You know me, Pike. I like to know exactly how much has been paid."

"Yeah," says Pike. "Yeah, I know. But I think that's maybe not how this works. Any time you lose something, no matter how small, it takes a while for those consequences to start rippling out. Any time I leave you all, things change so much while I'm gone. And there's so many threads all intertwined, just—" For a moment, with a dizzying sense of familiarity, she feels overwhelmed, like she's staring through a golden haze at some perfect truth that wavers in and out of focus the more she looks at it. "I mean, there's so much of it, it's hard to even, you know. Find out."

She can feel the words getting away from her, so instead she reaches out and thumbs away a tear slowly trailing down Vex's cheek. "Look. You're alive. He's alive. I'm alive. All of us are alive. And that's definitely going to be a temporary thing no matter how you look at it, so hey. Let's live a little."

She expects another smile, a laugh, maybe a wink. Instead, Vex tangles her fingers in her hair and pulls her close, kisses her forehead, kisses her cheek, and lingers on her lips.

Pike, feeling her face heating, barely has time to start thinking about something more interesting to do with her hands before Vex pulls back, and okay, there's the smile, there's the laugh, and there's the wink. "You're better at this than you give yourself credit for, darling. You always know just the right thing to say."

Biting her lip, fighting down a helpless giggle, searching for an appropriate response, Pike finally settles on another breathless, "Yikes," and, leaning in for another kiss, she figures that'll have to do for now.