1998
They both want to see in color again.
Percy looks, but he doesn't really see.
The world, it seems, is still black and white to him. Simple and complicated. Hard and easy. He wants to know that there's something in the middle between the polar opposites. He wants to see the sun and the moon and the stars, but right now they're all black and white. He wants to care, but he doesn't know how.
George wants the color to fade.
The shocking oranges and electric blues and vibrant greens are driving him mad. They're little reminders of what's lost and never to be found. There's a brilliant array of colors, happy and content. But all George really wants to do is to see everything in simpler eyes. See them in black or white, what's fun and boring. No bittersweet, just either lovely or horrible.
They both know the other is suffering, and they both don't know how to help the other one see.