-----

-----

"Regis," Geralt chided him playfully, softly, amused at the way he tried to shrug it off when they both knew it was the truth. "You should take credit where it's due. More often than not you were the voice of reason.

At this point, so much had happened Geralt was surprised he was still relatively in one piece too. They'd both had near death experiences, but he could only imagine the kind of terror that Regis had been subjected to. The only side effect of his own adventure had been the memory loss, and that was quite tame in comparison, even if it had presented it's own set of problems.

"Mm, for the most part, yeah." He paused. "At least I think so. All of the important stuff I think I know. Hard to tell these days, it seems there are so many stories and songs about me sometimes i don't know which ones are real."

-----

He made a soft, gruff sound of agreement at Regis' assessment. It was lonely. Geralt liked having friends, he was actually rather social, he enjoyed company and he enjoyed having people to care for, it gave him purpose, it made him feel needed. And Geralt needed to be needed. It was woven into his very being, that was why he always found himself in the middle of things that he shouldn't be, why he sometimes made the decisions he did and why, perhaps, he saw the world as he did.

"Sometimes they were the only people I spoke to for days at that time. It was a long road."

Another soft sound escaped him and he cast a glance in Regis' direction.

"We needed you for more than your skills, as superb as they are. I think we needed you, specifically. You balanced us out, kept us all floating along when it would have been easier to fight amongst ourselves. There were plenty of times that tempers ran a bit thin."

His gaze remained on Regis for a long moment, thoughtful and considering.

"It's good to have you back, Regis."

It felt important to say that aloud. For Regis to know that.

-----

Geralt made a low sound in the back of his throat, dropping his head back to rest against the seat cushion.

"So I'm not mad, I'm just old." He mused, lifting a hand to scratch idly at the side of his beard. "I dunno if that makes it better or worse."

He understood what Regis was saying, though. He was old. There were times when he certainly felt it. Sometimes he just felt tired of it all, not in a physical way, exactly, just... In his soul -though some would argue that he didn't have one.

"I suppose it's no surprise, Witchers aren't supposed to last this long, don't think they ever really built mental space into our design."

He let his arm drop back to the chair arm, hand hanging lazily over the side.

"I suppose if I ever do forget I can listen to those stupid songs and stories, might amuse me to wonder how much of it all is true."

-----

"Regis," Geralt chided him playfully, softly, amused at the way he tried to shrug it off when they both knew it was the truth. "You should take credit where it's due. More often than not you were the voice of reason.

At this point, so much had happened Geralt was surprised he was still relatively in one piece too. They'd both had near death experiences, but he could only imagine the kind of terror that Regis had been subjected to. The only side effect of his own adventure had been the memory loss, and that was quite tame in comparison, even if it had presented it's own set of problems.

"Mm, for the most part, yeah." He paused. "At least I think so. All of the important stuff I think I know. Hard to tell these days, it seems there are so many stories and songs about me sometimes i don't know which ones are real."

-----

"This is what makes you special," Geralt informed him when they reached the bar. He nodded his head to indicate the room and the people who'd greeted him so fondly and warmly.

"The way you have with people, the way you treat them and interact with them. They're all so fond of you and it's with good reason."

He turned to face the room, elbows resting back on the bar behind him as his eyes scanned the room. It was so warm, in every way it possibly could be. The people were smiling and laughing, chatting, singing, and just living the best lives that they could. And in the middle of it all was Regis. Right where you'd expect him to be.

"Following your lead, I feel it's important for you to know that."

There was more he wasn't saying exactly, but he thought perhaps that Regis would hear it all the same, he was clever like that. Knew how to read people.

"Not sure I'm as fond of you as your lady friend though..."

This he added with an amused little smirk.

-----

Geralt stood beside Regis for a moment, yellow eyes scanning his face curiously, searching for something, cataloguing every minute detail. Then he lifted his shoulders in a shrug, the barest hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he responded, voice a little gruff.

"What's mine is yours, I should hope you know that by now, we've certainly been through enough together."

He agreed, of course, that it was people that made a home, but there never seemed to be enough of them to stay. He pulled the door open and then glanced at Regis once more.

"I think you'd be the first to say that with such sincerity at any rate."

-----

A tiny smile pulled up the very corner of Geralt's lip as Regis patted his knee and he reached out briefly to return the gesture, laying a large hand over Regis' for a moment.

"You're right, of course. But sometimes the songs and the stories, that's all the good press we Witchers get. There are still plenty of people who despise us," he paused with a wry smile. "But they'd still pay us if their village suddenly became undersiege by corpse eaters."

Regis words did make him feel something though, what that something was he wasn't entirely sure, but something.

"That's all any of us are, isn't it? Just people trying to do their best. Some of us just have rougher hands dealt than others."

A soft sound of agreement, and something that could have been joy, escaped him and he nodded once.

"Yeah, I found it, thanks. You know, it's nice to be able to choose what mutations I have without suffering through Trials, it's been quite helpful. Just carry it around and after a while, boom, new perk."

-----

Geralt made a low sound in the back of his throat, dropping his head back to rest against the seat cushion.

"So I'm not mad, I'm just old." He mused, lifting a hand to scratch idly at the side of his beard. "I dunno if that makes it better or worse."

He understood what Regis was saying, though. He was old. There were times when he certainly felt it. Sometimes he just felt tired of it all, not in a physical way, exactly, just... In his soul -though some would argue that he didn't have one.

"I suppose it's no surprise, Witchers aren't supposed to last this long, don't think they ever really built mental space into our design."

He let his arm drop back to the chair arm, hand hanging lazily over the side.

"I suppose if I ever do forget I can listen to those stupid songs and stories, might amuse me to wonder how much of it all is true."

-----

Geralt stood beside Regis for a moment, yellow eyes scanning his face curiously, searching for something, cataloguing every minute detail. Then he lifted his shoulders in a shrug, the barest hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he responded, voice a little gruff.

"What's mine is yours, I should hope you know that by now, we've certainly been through enough together."

He agreed, of course, that it was people that made a home, but there never seemed to be enough of them to stay. He pulled the door open and then glanced at Regis once more.

"I think you'd be the first to say that with such sincerity at any rate."

-----

"I know," Geralt rumbled softly, amused by the conundrum that was his life. "It's complicated. Sometimes I wonder what a simple life would be like. But then, I'd probably get bored..."

He didn't exactly loathe his life, it had never been that simple. He was a Witcher and that's just the way it was. It was, quite literally, in his bones and in his blood. He'd never really thought about who, or what, he'd be without it. He'd never had the chance at a normal future. But despite the danger and the hatred he faced on a daily basis, it wasn't so bad. What he did, it was necessary. He helped people and that was important to him, despite what some people thought about him and his kind. Though Geralt was something of an anomaly, unique even amongst Witchers.

"You're right though," he noted as he stood. "It does feel good to have somewhere to call home. And for you too, as much as you can call any place home."

He was exhausted, that much was true at the very least and a hot meal sounded good, especially with good company. And the possible entertainment this outing might produce.

"Lead the way then, I'm keen to get a look at this admirer of yours."