"We've missed you," Tracer was rarely aware, now, that sometimes when he talked he used that plural. We. The unit he and Harmony and Speed had somehow unwittingly become. He shook his head against the back of his brother's shoulder and dropped a kiss there against his shirt. "I missed, me, you." And that made a little more sense, at least to him. Could his brother hear what he meant?
After a moment he rolled off of Ketamine and onto his back again beside him, grinning up at the sky. "But not anymore."