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"Yes indeed," says Sherlock.

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Sherlock gets an Isabella sitting next to him on his bed. "Anything interesting in the conversation that I missed?"

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"My daemon has the standard Sherlock array of self-esteem problems, and neither one of us really knows how daemons are supposed to work. Path has been helping."

"And I'm Steph now," says Steph. "But I'll probably pick something else later."
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"I'm helpful," asserts Path.

"Of course you are," laughs Isabella.

There is a subtle but definitely Sherlock-noticeable increased comfort in her behavior now that he is bedaemoned.
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Steph jumps off the headboard and bolts for the door.
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Path flutters to regain his balance, and Amariah jumps, startled. Path flies to her arm and she holds him close to her chest. "What's - what's happened?"

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Steph falls short of the door. She strains for a moment, then disappears in a puff of golden light.

Sherlock rubs his face with both hands and says, "I have a fucking suicidal daemon. She finds it intolerable that you are more comfortable around me now that she exists."
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"I - why? I'm just - used to people having daemons, I always will be, however much time I spend around people who haven't."

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"Welcome to the irrational and emotionally volatile world of Sherlocks with souls."

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Amariah sighs and puts Path down on the footboard and hugs Sherlock.

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Sherlock hugs back.

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"Maybe you'll be more comfortable if she stays tucked away," says Amariah dubiously.

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"You don't expect that to be true?"

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"I put Path away when I'm nervous someone will touch him. It's a little like - wearing sneakers to go wading. It's uncomfortable, it's not what sneakers are for, the shoes get waterlogged and it's hard to make forward progress - but if the water's infested with piranhas, it's safer. I'm less worried about it now I have my aura and he can make it clear to everyone that they need to back off, and sometimes I want to have sex with someone who doesn't have a daemon and then it's more comfortable than him just being neglected - but it doesn't feel right to have him folded away like that. He's not my dagger, only useful when I happen to want to do something that calls for a sharp object, he's part of me, if he's not there then I'm not all there."

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"Steph and I do not feel that way," says Sherlock. "Steph doesn't want to exist. Steph hates that you are more comfortable with her around because it is a reason for her to continue existing. I had almost forgotten what it was like to be that suicidal."

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"That's - that's bad," says Amariah. "She came out of you. I don't think it can just be because she happens to be a daemon and this has some resonance with something else. She's your daemon. And she appeared now, not back when you were more - obviously like that."

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"She doesn't want me to stop existing, at least. She just doesn't want to be an active participant in the process."

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"Well." Amariah shrugs. "Maybe you'll be more comfortable like this, then."

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"Maybe I will," he sighs.

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"Around here - if Path started acting like that I would assume it meant I, the entire person that is us, was in a really bad way. But you haven't had her forever, so - maybe it's different."

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"She has only just begun to exist. The advent of self-awareness is not an easy time for Sherlocks."

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Isabella hugs him again.

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He sighs, and hugs her back.

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"Well, how did you deal with it?" Amariah asks. "Having self-awareness."

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"Self-awareness is not intrinsically the problem. The problem is that I didn't like myself very much. And mostly I dealt with it poorly, until I lost my soul and stopped caring. Oh, there you are," he says, blinking. "I'll just bet she feels like shit; to a first approximation she is the literal embodiment of my natural tendency to self-loathe. Which I dodged resuming with magic when I merged my soul back in, but apparently that only took for the everyday, because I am definitely miserable in a soulful way right now. No fucking wonder."

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