and get yourself dressed instead of running around

The return to the Hub had been nice. Normal. At times, nearly alarmingly so, the sweeping motions of a rag over the counter or brushing over a delicate glass nearly enough to ease the tension straight out of Ishiah's shoulders, reminding him strongly of the Ninth Circle. If he didn't look too closely, kept his vision slightly blurred around the edges, it was close enough. Only the occasional bird flew in, and plants were far more sparsely spread about, but one of the things that Ishiah had always loved most about tending to the bar was the quiet din of conversations, one melding into another, that buzzed about him with a soft energy. He could catch snippets here, snippets there, like a patchwork that all came together to simply be how things were, how life went on, a good exercise to remember in Robin's absence.

Ianto and Charlie had a daughter now, and she was beautiful, so small, so new. Conceived on the island, wouldn't have lived without it, and so life went on, and Ishiah would be there to bear witness to it. There was an inevitable hole still gaping in his chest, but he'd been through worse and would be again, he was sure. Robin wouldn't have liked it if he gave up.

And quite frankly, Ishiah would have cared even less for it.

He walked out of the front entrance for a breath of air, gaze turned toward the sky, a brilliant blue and brimming with warm sunlight again. He preferred this weather, even if it left the perspiration clinging to his temples and occasionally called him back to a lifetime ago. It was still better. Warmth was always better.

With a pitcher of iced tea in one hand and a couple of glasses in the other (just in case passerby stopped to keep him company, as they sometimes did), Ishiah sat down to the side of the entrance, listening only for the birds.