When his name is called, Roland turns to look at Tidus through his profile, watches him stare at his lap while the pieces fall into place. He allows a beat to pass before Roland touches Tidus's shoulder with a heavy hand, a recognition; a piece of comfort. "Hey, now. Why the long face?" he says first, not exactly an attempt to break the silence, heavy like fog. But as Tidus himself is so used to the feeling, the truth behind his own story, so too is Roland used to the ache. The shadow following him like an old companion, welcomed every time they come through the door.

But this isn't what he wishes Tidus to feel. So he retracts that sentiment quickly. He can be honest with Tidus, most of all.

"It's okay." Roland says dazedly, remembering. "It's not as simple as going back to the first world. That's just how it is." The heaviest burden of all is what he overcame the moment he wakes up in Evan's room, wondering if he might be dreaming or just a part of the living dead, existing but not really alive. Discovering what he has about his own fate, shared by another tormented by the weight of the crown.

"I was ready to stay in the second. Maybe the work to save my world was there all along, if they're really connected. Who knows? And if life's got different plans for me, and I do get to come back...Evan taught me you can start again. Even if all I'll come home to is an empty country." Roland will never admit his fear out loud, too much for him to hear coming from his own lips, but he will remind himself of his mettle instead. In the waking world, at least, he is stronger than this. He won't let the darkness escape the cage of sleep, of silence.