"Does it hurt?"
He heard a rustling behind his back and the sound of wingtips dragging across the dirt as Patamon turned over, and as he spoke, his words were weakened with approaching slumber. "Does what hurt?"
There was a pause, and the boy swallowed, losing his nerve for a moment before mumbling his words into his sleeve, "Dying."
There was a silence between the two. TK, with his back to the digimon, pulled his knees a little closer to his chest, uncomfortable with the silence. He could hear the simmering of the embers of the fire, the familiar sound of Gabumon's breathing somewhere near his head, the sound of a digital stream somewhere in the distance.
"It's hard to say," Patamon said, and TK could sense uneasiness in his voice.
"Nevermind, it was a dumb question," the boy said.
"No, it's not," the digimon said, his voice on the edge of a laugh, "I'm just trying to figure out how to describe it."
TK heard Patamon get up and shake the dirt off his fur, his wings flapping against his back as he shook. He felt a weight on his side as Patamon climbed over him, the pressure of one paw at a time. When TK opened his eyes, he saw Patamon's face, backlit by the dying fire, and he opened his arms for the digimon to snuggle against him.
When he had settled into the boy's arms, Patamon continued, "I guess it feels kind of like floating. It doesn't hurt, It- it just feels kind of weightless and numb, and a little bit warm. Everything got further and further away, and all the sounds became muffled, and then I just felt like I was floating through the air in a million pieces, but I was still me. I don't know if that makes any sense..." the digimon trailed off, and TK felt him shift in his arms a bit.
"And then I guess I was a digi egg again. That was the hardest part. I could hear you, TK. I could hear your voice and feel you near me, but I couldn't be with you."
"Sorry, Patamon," TK said, and he blinked away the tears that had begun to settle in the corners of his eyes. He hugged the little digimon a bit tighter, finding comfort in the smell of dirt and fur, one tear rolling down his cheek and onto Patamon's wing which twitched slightly in response.
"It's okay, we're together now," Patamon said, and TK could hear the shy smile in his voice.
The boy smiled, "Yeah. And it'll never happen again, I promise."