In the time that they've been together — first as friends, then as more — Wilhelm has tried to be strong for Iris. He has tried to be the bulwark defending him from sadness, loneliness, all kinds of hurting. It was for Iris that he became strong, he thinks. That is to say, all the while he was staggering down this path, not knowing where it led, he was preparing for Iris to enter his life. He was preparing to be what he needed.

It takes strength, too, to admit that you're afraid. And Iris, too, is to him his shelter, his harbor, his haven. At the edge of this escarpment which overlooks the unknown, Wilhelm is terrified; curled into Iris, he absorbs the sense that everything will be okay.

"It wasn't until I came here that I felt like I had any choice in my life. I felt like I could be myself. I wasn't brave enough before. But you're right. Maybe...it has nothing to do with the place. Yeah, I needed to be...away from home, away from my family. But it was the people I met here. They helped me grow and get strong. They helped me...find myself."

Now he lets go of Iris' hand so that can loop his arms around his waist instead, turning his face inward. Bowing his head like a worshiper at an altar, breathing him in.

"You helped me, Iris." A pause, in which he feels the weight of what he's about to say. "I think...as long as you're with me, I'm home."