To Love & Lost

Chapter 9: Hysteresis

(Warnings: T, severe dissociation, nervous breakdown]


It would be hours until Yuna would return from the ball, Paine and Rikku departing together in what she imagined would be an amorous night together, something she couldn't blame them for doing. In the hectic turmoil evidenced throughout all of Spira, any chance to steal away was a precious moment she was certain they couldn't afford to squander. But as things were, something had been decided in the several dances she'd engaged with Baralai, they feeling more like private conferences that neither felt abashed for utilizing. The dance floor was a fast-paced whirlwind and they were both competent dancers, making it almost more cloistered than a closed room. It was decided their new base of operations would be in Bevelle for the time being, seeing as the city was routinely the safest from attacks by Sin, for its fortified walls and lack of excessive machina made it a haven that they couldn't dare think of passing up. Baralai had granted she and her guardians unrestricted access to both Bevelle and its resources, making the city at their very much-needed disposal.

It was on her way to her room that Yuna would pause in the crystal-lit corridors, the hum of discreet machina the only thing to stave away the maddening silence; though, it too steadily became a nuisance on her anxious mind. Turning and noticing that she was near to Seymour's room, the woman balled her hands into fists and her expression became an impassioned sort of irritation that she easily acted upon. Storming to his door, she furiously rapped her knuckles on it and called, "Hey you, open up! I'm not finished with what I had to say, you know!" She then retracted her hand and folded her arms resolutely, feeling a prickle of belated embarrassment at having dropped her composure like that.

The door swung open a moment later, Yuna regretting her words as he looked down at her, thankfully not coldly. He'd changed from the formal attire and into what he'd been wearing before, regarding her receptively but with a sort of despondency. Then she really began to feel ashamed, loosing her arms and feeling her moment of passion wink out. But, it still didn't stop the words she wanted to say from being softly spoken. "I wanted to apologize, alright? I wasn't being fair, but…can I come in? It's cold out here."

Seymour quirked a small smile that made her sigh internally with relief, opening it fully and revealing the hallway that fed into his chambers. "But of course, Lady Yuna. Please, forgive the mess you'll find inside. Research has never been an organized endeavor for me."

"Research?" she echoed as she stepped through the threshold, walking through the corridor incrementally lit by ensconced crystals. When she came to the living room, it was disarming how lived in it looked. Papers were stacked in discordant piles, spheres piled on several furniture pieces and spilling on to the floor, both types of models glistening gold and blue. The lighting was soft, dim, as books were the most profuse. It really was a huge mess, which elicited a soft smile before hearing the door close and Seymour's footfalls following indicating he'd joined her.

"Forgive my lack of organization, Yuna. Had I known you were coming, I would've at least made an effort to be neater." She couldn't help but smile and turn at him as she struggled to lift an enormous tome, regarding him sheepishly.

"How do you lift all these books? They're so heavy!" she exclaimed before placing a stack back with a thud near several opened ones. "All this, and we've only been here for two days?"

Seymour cleared space on a nearby couch, stacking several more tomes and papers with a motley collection of spheres on a coffee table, Yuna doing the same with an armchair directly across from it. She sat neatly, fingers twiddling together with her busy mind. "Bevelle has an extraordinary font of knowledge if one only knows how to access it. Being your guardian, as they insist, clearly has its advantages."

Yuna pensively regarded him, murmuring, "So, you've accepted this?"

Seymour couldn't help but chuckle softly, shaking his head. "As I've only asserted several times through these past several weeks."

The priestess admittedly flushed in embarrassment, nodding mutely. Even if it was a roundabout dodge to her question, it made her dig a little deeper, press a little harder. "So, you're willing to give saving Spira a shot, even if it contradicts who you used to be? To place some hope in life," she surmised slowly, glancing at him as Seymour nodded in confirmation.

"I suppose... However, if we are to show our hands, perhaps I ought reveal mine." Yuna felt herself tense, sitting ramrod straight with anticipation. "I do remember much of my time in the Farplane. Akin to a dream, I wandered in and out of consciousness, and these past three years have…altered my perspective." He was right, wasn't he? Although unsent were technically immortal, they still aged. Even before her, three years had passed and it showed, physically making him appear more tired aside from older, almost. Tired? Have I just noticed that now? she pondered in surprise. Maybe it had been their tenacious contention that had overruled such an observation.

"You remember things. What kinds of things?"

Seymour pursed his lips thoughtfully, eyes traveling down. "Nothing organized. Places, locations, conversations—and those were many—faces and times past. The past, the present. As disorganized as what you see before you."

Yuna leaned forward some, pressing on, "So, what you're saying is this you trying to remember? That this is all you trying to connect the pieces together." She was avidly interested, something Seymour was keen to notice with a brief shadow of a smile.

"Yes. You may think this a selfish endeavor, but should you ask Kurgum, you will find we've amassed many notes. Notes of correlating things that may be invaluable to our cause."

It made Yuna wonder about Kurgum. Though still young, he had a good heart. After living through Sin twice, as many Spirans had, part of her knew he'd be able to pick up on any signs of deceit or treachery if they ever became manifest. At least, she hoped. A soft heart was easier to manipulate, she reflected bitterly. Trying to soften her own edges, at least for this, she couldn't help but ask, "Seymour...your pilgrimage. What was that like?" with some recalcitrance.

How this spanned a pregnant pause between them.

"Lonely, at first," he said without missing a beat after a long moment, expression becoming detached. He had never truly told anyone, not even his father. "My mother was the sole person I truly loved in the world. A boy of ten, abhorred by both facets of his heritage, was finally...accepted, to some degree. Transformed from an abomination to a kindling hope. A lamb to be sent to slaughter. We journeyed throughout Spira, and as summoners do, I attained the aeons. One by one, inching ever closer to Zanarkand," he paused, his visage becoming visibly darkened. "It was there I learned the truth. That in sacrificing my life, and that of my dying mother, I would...be free of pain. That Spira, too, would be released from its cycle of death. However, I could not. Even a boy, you see, had little desire to sacrifice himself to people whom hated him so. This I realized in the eight long years I survived on Baaj, alone." His violet gaze hardened, a hand curling lightly to clench.

"I remember the visions at the Zanarkand dome. I saw you, and Lady Cydia," Yuna admitted, wresting Seymour from his dark cloud, the man gazing dispassionately even as something stirred beneath. "I think…I think I understand how she must have felt. She must have felt pain, too, knowing she couldn't be with the man she loved, nor raise her son like other children. Yes...it hurts a little, doesn't it?" She smiled sadly at him, Seymour stirring with a sympathy faint in his eyes, nodding.

"I remember when I first heard of you, Yuna. It was after I'd been ordained a priest of Yevon, and after Lord Braska defeated Sin. I didn't think there was another like me in the world, hated for what we were. Perhaps...for the first time, I didn't feel so alone," Seymour admitted slowly, Yuna gazing at him in surprise. She blinked it away, head bowing downwards as she nodded.

"It's funny, isn't it? What living in pain can do to you. It made my father so kind… My mother, too. He saved the world in spite of it. I might have gotten left behind, but he did it out of love for us. I don't think I could ever thank him enough," Yuna admitted, a brief smile quirking before it fell. "I had Kimahri, Wakka, Lulu, Chappu—and Sir Auron, in a way."

"Loneliness, harshness… I do not need to say what it did to me. However, the years I spent in the Farplane made me realize: No one is free from death. Not even Sin. It is a cycle of sorrow no one can end, break nor hasten. Would you scorn me for taking heart in this, Yuna?" he asked unabashedly, Yuna staring in shock at the admission. It seemed that no amount of change would alter this in Seymour, at least...not yet.

Yuna pursed her lips, studying her fingers twiddling together. "Not really. I realized from the beginning I wouldn't be able to change you, no matter how much I wish I could," she confessed, smiling tightly. However, the closure between them increased when she looked up again, following his eyes as Seymour genuflected before her, Yuna's skin flushing. She swallowed thickly, her gaze unable to turn away from his own.

Slowly, inexorably, he caressed the side of her face, Yuna realizing as to why. Living as he had had seen him without this contact with anyone. However, it did little to abate the blush that suffused. Gradually, she let herself relax, breathing calmly as elongated fingers gently carressed against her cheek. His expression was serene before he broke the contact again, standing to open two pairs of doors that led on to a balcony, the cityscape of Bevelle lit for them to see. "Ah, you can still hear the music from here. Even from afar, the orchestra still permeates throughout the city," he observed. A gasp broke from Yuna's lips as she struggled to regain her breath, willing the flush away.

After a moment, she came to where he stood and tapped his shoulder. Her hands clasped behind her back, tilting her head at him. "Why don't we dance, then? One more—just one," she negotiated firmly, though the offer was hardly met with refusal.

"Why, Lady Yuna, it would be my pleasure."


"Yunie, Yunie!"

Her body seized in a cold sweat, thrashing as pain lobbed needles at her, sinking into tender flesh. Rocking her body as though she were being tossed at sea. Yuna didn't know where she was, what she was—what anything was. She couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't feel—couldn't speak. Only soundlessly scream in a thick, asphyxiating heaviness. She couldn't breathe, didn't know her own name. All she was cognizant of was utter terror.

"Rikku, let Kurgum through! He can help."

The blinding and sweating pain suddenly became replaced by a sensation of relieving weightlessness, her limbs calming from what had felt like a brutal thrashing. Her person slowly came back to her, feeling heavy and clammy, sore and unreal. Breathing was still frantic, likely catching her breath after feeling so strangled. Gradually, slowly, even though she felt sweaty and miserably sore, her emotions numb from what must've been profuse sobbing, she was grounded again.

"I think Lady Yuna is coming around again," a voice observed somberly, Yuna recognizing it as Kurgum's. Mismatched eyes blearily opened, air stinging harshly as she blinked for several long moments. Finally able to keep them open, she became aware of how she was bathed in perspiration, the air feeling incredibly cold.

"W-What happened?" she croaked, voice rough with disuse. Yuna tried sitting up only to be encouraged back down by Rikku, her face torn apart by worry for her cousin.

"Yunie, I heard you thrashing and calling out! You said...you couldn't breathe or anything. It got really bad," Rikku explained to the older woman, swiping away a moussed lock of sweat-drenched hair that had plastered messily across her face. "Are you okay?"

Yuna looked bewildered as Rikku explained what had transpired, mind sharply aghast as what she'd been dreaming of slowly filtered back into her mind. It'd been dark, and she'd seen faces. So many faces of people she'd met, people who'd been sent, people...she loved. Her mother, father—even the aeons! All tormented in this hell she couldn't explain. Kurgum sat at her bedside, flanking it in a stool he'd drawn to her side.

"Lady Yuna, do you remember what triggered this?" he asked gently, Chuami standing with her brows knit and arms folded just behind him against the wall. Yuna sighed, but tepidly reiterated what she'd seen, from everything perceived to the faces, the aeons...all of it. Until her voice became hoarse and Rikku held a glass of water she drank deeply from to soothe her parched throat.

Swallowing down the last of the water, Rikku set the glass aside. "...No. I feel asleep, and woke up to this nightmare. I'm sorry, Kurgum, I guess I just don't really remember," she answered with a wan, apologetic smile. Chuami sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Maybe it was just stress," Chuami offered, shrugging.

"Yunie's been stressed before, but it was never this bad," Rikku said worriedly, biting her lower lip.

Yuna was silent for a long moment, staring down at the sheets folded over her lap, thinking deeply. "It was Sin." Everyone's gaze shot to her, stunned. She looked at them each with conviction. "We've been in it before, remember, Rikku? This feeling…it was almost exactly the same. Like I was inside it," she extrapolated, gaze then dropping. "I think…I think those faces were people. Their spirits, those who'd been absorbed by Sin."

"Hang on a second, does this mean you're mentally tied to Sin now or something? How do you know it's not just lingering Sin toxin reawakening old trauma and giving you nightmares?" Chuami challenged, folding her arms and frowning deeply.

The priestess looked down, knowing Chuami was right. Before she could speak in her own defense, Kurgum piped up. "No one's saying you're wrong, Chuami. But, maybe...we could at least keep both in mind? See which one might be right," the young man said placatingly, smiling at his childhood friend.

Chuami snorted, then huffed, "So, you're all seriously entertaining the idea Lady Yuna's some watered down Sinspawn now? This is all so absurd. I thought we were done with being superstitious when Yevon fell three years ago." The disdain was evident on her face, flaring defensively. Yuna sighed, knowing she couldn't fault Chuami. Since her mother had been killed by Yevoners it was unthinkable she'd remotely agree with any ideas reminiscent of what Yevon espoused just years before.

"I'm sorry, Chuami," Yuna said, shaking her head. A smile remained gently forced on her face, though it arose more from Yuna's persistent habit of being the peacemaker instead of instigator of conflict.

However, it was Rikku who flared in response, the Al Bhed's face darkening with a scowl. "Instead of shooting our ideas down, why you actually contribute something for once, huh? Stop acting like you know Yunie so well! If you're gonna take this seriously, just stop it!" the girl exploded, gesticulating in a way that only served to enunciate her anger.

Chuami's features fostered their own sense of ire, folding her arms and jutting out a hip. "Oh yeah? You know, for someone who is supposed to take this seriously, you sure don't act like it, Lady Rikku."

Just as Rikku was staged to launch her own furious rebuttal, a booming command of, "That's enough, both of you!" tore their argument to shreds. All eyes honed on the doorway where Seymour stood, expression disdainful. Though the door was open, it seemed nobody had noticed him come in. Rectifying that deficiency, the half-Guado closed it soundly behind him. "There is no point in arguing now. Not when it would compromise Lady Yuna's health," he chastised softly, Rikku looking down in shame while Chuami simply snorted acerbically, saying no more.

Yuna seemed to relax when she saw Seymour, the man having come with pouches of healing implements and poultices. Setting them on Yuna's nightstand, he regarded Kurgum with a nod. "Thank you for informing me of Lady Yuna's condition, Kurgum. I believe we should be able to treat her from here. In fact, I believe I do have a solution for our conundrum."

The silence that ensued was speculative, Seymour taking it as initiative to continue. "I believe I should monitor her in my quarters, tonight. To ensure it won't happen again."

"What?! Are you crazy?" Rikku exclaimed, standing up and shooting Seymour an incredulous look the man was condescendingly aloof to.

"For once, I actually agree with her," Chuami agreed, folding her arms and fixing the man with a harshly scrutinizing look. "We still don't trust you, what with your past motivations. What was it, claim her dead or alive, as I was informed by Kurgum? Not a chance. This is literally the worst idea yet."

"Chuami, Rikku, I'm sorry but…he's right. I think it would benefit me to sleep in Seymour's room tonight."

Rikku gaped as she stared at Yuna, the priestess keeping her lips pensive and eyes low to her lap, Seymour smiling smugly at her resounding agreement.

"What the Lady Yuna has not yet explained is that with my connection to the Farplane, and having once been part of Sin, if this is more than a nightmare then I would be the best choice to ascertain the validity of her theory. And with my considerable reserves of knowledge in other areas, I would be able to handle any threat that plagues her," he explained with his typical, catty smile—only earning a seething, resentful glare from Chuami.

Rikku's face became crestfallen, heaving a sigh. "Yunie, y'sure about this? I mean, can you really trust him?"

"I know we've all had…struggles with Seymour. I don't think anyone can deny that, however…I've spoken to him several times. He's taken on the mantle of being my guardian and wants to see this through to the end. Even if his motivations might be different, I'm going to trust him. Can you guys at least have a little faith in me?" Yuna's smile was unerringly gentle, the same sort that could melt the thickest block of Shiva's ice.

"I believe in you, Lady Yuna. And I trust Seymour, too," Kurgum said, flashing a hopeful look at Seymour that was met with an incline of the half-Guado's head in acknowledgment.

"…I don't trust him. Maybe I never will, but we're your guardians, so…I'll go along with this. But the second he takes a step out of line, that's it. I wouldn't hold back if it came to that," Chuami said lowly, refusing to meet Seymour's violet gaze.

"Yeah, what she said!" Rikku chimed in with boisterous agreement, folding her arms.

Yuna smiled softly, her shoulders sagging with relief. "Thank you all, truly."


It would be several hours until she would see Seymour again, hours that Yuna filled to the brim with much-needed research. The Palace of St. Bevelle touted an incredible and hidden library Yuna hadn't remembered from former misadventures, becoming the venue for them pouring over primers and spheres, many spheres themselves ancient in lieu of a faith that had once kept its own history in a stranglehold. Chuami and Yuna had taken to study there while Kurgum retreated with Seymour and Rikku with Paine, both women likely conducting investigations however they could.

By the fall of evening, when the hours were late and Yuna was growing weary from watching spheres so long, she rubbed her eyes as gongs throughout the city tolled the hour. Even though Chuami saw Yuna off with mistrust riddled in her eyes, it served more of a crop to compel Yuna to proceed faster rather than slower.

"Thank you so much for this, Seymour!" came Kurgum's withdrawing voice as Yuna sidestepped in surprise away from Kurgum, the sender laughing as he nearly collided into Yuna with his arms cradling several tomes, a knapsack full of spheres, and several miscellaneous paraphernalia Yuna couldn't immediately name in the split-second he wheeled back on his heel to regain his balance.

"Oh, Lady Yuna! Good to see you look better," Kurgum greeted, recomposing himself enough to stand fairly well. "Ah, I'd love to stick around, but we learned so much today I've got to jot it down before I forget! See you!"

"Alright, Kurgum, don't trip!" Yuna giggled after him, passing on a small wave before he finally retreated from sight, Yuna still happily aglow from the mirthful moment.

"Knowledge is quite the stimulant if one knows how to make it useful, wouldn't you agree, Yuna?" Seymour broke through, the taller man having swept back the door further so that she could pass through with ease. He seemed amused, his usual smile pressed genuinely upon his lips. "Ah yes, I had the bed remade and made clean for you. Being unsent has the advantage of requiring no sleep, fortunately."

Her moment of happiness passed into one of trepidation, Yuna's head bowing and the woman sighing shakily. She wasn't above saying she was nervous, but if the aforementioned theory was true, then it meant the possibility of her being connected to Sin...somehow. And that scared her more than anything. Seymour stood aside and ushered her in as he had the night before, doing so with a dutiful pretense as if the warmth that had managed to build between them fizzled into dissipating sparks. Or maybe, he understood. Maybe he was trying to.

Seymour's room was as untouched as promised, noticing the bed bore no imprints of previous occupancy and only the desk was littered with needless paraphernalia. Things she needn't pay any heed to. The curtains had been courteously drawn, warm and fiery light suffusing through their translucence but otherwise left the room fairly dim. It wouldn't be long until only the nocturnal cityscape of Bevelle would be seen, and Yuna waited with anticipation.

She made herself comfortable on Seymour's bed, pillows propped beneath her head and laying on her back. After a long sigh and finally feeling at peace enough, she turned to Seymour who regarded her quietly. "Do you think...it might really be true? That Sin is connected to me?" she wondered aloud, brow puckering with worry.

"It's not impossible. The aeons Yu Yevon possessed were yours, and it takes a powerful link to be established between summoner and faith—a link he might have left a lingering maleficence over. And with Sin's return, it may even be using you as a medium." Seeing Yuna's worry, he amended softly, "Please, it's only speculation, Yuna. My guess is as good as any."

Yuna steeled herself, hands balling into fists as her determination became hard set on to her face. "I can't keep running. Even if it is true, I will fight. On any battlefield." As Yuna clenched her eyes shut, what began as resolution gave way to a genuine exhaustion. The past weeks had greatly weighed on her, and last night's nightmare saw her get no rest. Sleep could not have come more desperately, with greater yearning.

Mismatched eyes saw themselves in a cloudy woodland, crystalline trees arcing into a misty sky that hung too low to the earth. They were amethyst and ultramarine, colors undulating together with unnatural glows permeating throughout. The foliage above tinkled as a breeze blew through their boughs, carrying something ominous. The ground beneath was wet, but her feet picked up no dampness. No birds chirped, no crickets or cicadas rustled through the underbrush. In fact, walking through the glass elicited sounds of glass shards shattering underfoot.

"Lady Yuna, what are you doing here?!" Blearily did she peer through until a shadow burst through the woods, it being none other than the fallen Crusader, Luzzu, the red head's face contorted with worry. "We have to hurry to the Command Center before Sin comes! You'll be much safer there." As Luzzu reached for her hand, Yuna sharply stopped him.

"Luzzu...we're not on Mushroom Rock Road," she said finally, the man's eyes slowly opening in horror. She swallowed thickly, bowing her head.

Luzzu gaped at her in shock before crumpling to his knees, holding his face in his hands as he began to hopelessly sob. Yuna bit her lower lip and touched his shoulder, a cold sensation rippling through her as the phantom shimmered before dissolving into pyreflies, causing her heartbeat to catch in her throat before she swallowed it down. Remembering Operation Mi'ihen dredged a slew of old feelings: of guilt, of powerlessness, weakness and grief...so many things that made her feel wretched. But, then she remembered sunlight. A sunny smile, eyes bright and blue as the ocean, a voice that told her to keep going—

When her eyes opened, the scene had shuttered darkly and a new one had been constructed. Zanarkand Dome loomed lonely and ruined before her, a cool, damp darkness extending for miles from the interminably vast and ancient machina city now as vividly real as the first time she'd sojourned there with her guardians. The dread from before was replaced by a vaster unknown, one that kept her going forth even if her heart beat wildly in her chest.

The path she trekked was old and remembered, pyreflies lighting her way with memories reliving themselves as Tidus took center stage, Yuna unable to keep herself from watching him with misty eyes, his essence captured to well it made her heart sorely ache. But, she couldn't remain. Something had brought her there and she needed to see what. She continued along the unstable path, letting herself be guided.

It came to Yuna's surprise when no cloister of trails awaited her, no different from the deactivated one that came following the Eternal Calm. Instead, ancient machina whirred to life, lighting a path that deviated from the usual. A screen with a choppy picture bore a glowing imprint of a hand, Yuna pressing hers to it and watching as the heavy stone barrier shuddered before raising. "I wonder what's here..." she asked aloud, glancing over her shoulder before stepping through the inky black corridor that lit her way along shards of light at her feet, the door eventually rumbling as her way out was shut. Still, she knew there was no way of returning just yet.

Eventually, a rounded corridor revealed an opaque light bleeding through shades, Yuna drawing away the curtain and freezing with what she saw. Before her was the room she remembered preserved from the sphere projection Seymour had demonstrated to she and her guardians years before. Only, this wasn't a projection. It seemed all too real. Yuna found her feet moving of their own accord when she stood before the vanity, seeing herself no different than usual which brought silent relief to her. A girlish wile wanted her to sit at the vanity and simply explore what was there, even as a cold sensation burned at the nape of her neck.

The distinct clangor of heavy armor rattled in her periphery as she saw a man emerge from the ingress at the other side of the conical room, freezing when she realized who it was.

"Lord Zaon," she breathed, unable to turn around. The man came closer, his eyes eerily shielded by his visor as a heavy hand menaced on her shoulder, nothing benign about it.

"You killed her. You killed my Yunalesca. You have doomed us," his voice stuttered in his grief, throaty and clenched. Yuna wanted to move, wanted to profusely apologize and explain herself, but not even a whimper could escape her throat. That same hand suddenly clenched around her throat, asphyxiating as Yuna soundlessly gasped for air, eyes wide before squeezing shut and she was hauled from the vanity inexorably with her face beginning to phase blue. Clawing at his hand and face, Zaon need only crane his neck away before his arm extended and Yuna was lifted into the air, thrashing wildly as the air wouldn't come to her lungs and her face burned red from the blood constricted there. "This cannot begin to repair what damage has been done..."

Her vision started to go black as she gradually lost consciousness, and from the dream to reality did she return. However, wild unrest reigned as Yuna thrashed as violently, crying out fearfully, the sheets tossed and foggily hearing the sounds of Seymour's alarm. The half-Guado had embraced her in order to restrain her, clutching her close to his chest before her lungs could realize she wasn't choking, that she could still breathe.

Gradually, so gradually, both relaxed as the violence ebbed away. Yuna blinked back tears from her eyes, mousy brown hair plastered and moussed to her skull from perspiration, feeling herself shudder from both the sudden cold and weakness that poured alarmingly through her.

"It's over now, Yuna. You're here. You're awake," Seymour murmured thickly, long digits caressing through her hair as he embraced her tightly, but not enough to suffocate her. Inexorably, she wound her arms around his neck and buried her face against it, feeling her shoulders quake with sobs as they came, hot and salty, down her cheeks. The sounds of her frightened sobbing were muffled by the embrace, but Seymour could only think to tuck her closer, trying to make the worst of her wretched lack of feeling grounded be alleviated, of the terrifying vision of Lord Zaon. It had all been too much, both of them knew.

"I-I'm...so sorry!" Yuna choked out, even as Seymour's lips pursed and eyes closed tightly, bidden to silence and only prolonging the embrace instead. Because it was what she sorely needed.