Tracer had been heady having his brother here - He'd brought the others, when he'd made it, but they hadn't really understood. The heady, lazy smile faded though at Opium's words, and he blinked at him slowly, and suddenly he was shaking and he wasn't sure what it was that had cut him so utterly. Except that no one else had asked. It had been growing there for months, since the mess and the cut ties and having to piece his brothers together from shards and needles. It had been growing, and growling, and he'd cut it out just to have it grow back. No matter how much he cut away, it was a part of him now.
And Opium had been the first one to ask. The first he hadn't told himself before they could understand it.
"Black mold," He said after a minute, still shivering a little under his brother's touch, not quite able to meet his eyes.