"I hurt..." Tracer trailed off in the explanation, though, his eyes closing as Opium's nails dragged against his skin, head turning to the touch and then tipping back. He sighed, shrugged, shivered again.
"Hurt and burned, and then there were only the pieces of them, and more responsibility than I needed, and I had to change..." The mold hadn't been unwelcome, then, for all it had done, it had made him stronger than he'd been.