"No," Tracer answered immediately, thinking of Harmony and how fragile even the last months had seemed. "No, I hold things together, or they disappear into the ether and I don't know if I could pull them back again." He wasn't that strong, he knew, if the world went white the way it had. "Things change," he said simply, and still his brother felt like shallow roots and dark, damp places. Felt like home, and it was easy to lean in against him, head dropping down to his brother's warm shoulder.