[ They're more related than Oz could know, because there's a shared sense in the memory that he had picked up on there. Blood on the bat, blood on a knife, both to protect, and both wrong. Cole had escaped judgement, though, because there was no one left to judge him at that point. The only person that could see and remember thought of him as a monster, and so Cole had left to right the wrongs alone. It was better, he thought. Rhys could forget him, and he would be happier.

Still, that touches on the question that Oz poses, and that makes Cole shift uncomfortably. It's two-fold, since explaining it was just technically difficult, since Cole had only recently understood what had happened himself, but it's also something raw and emotional. Cole carries the pain of others without complaint, since he can use it to help, but his own pain was a different matter. ]

...No.

[ There's a weight to that "no" that makes it seem like that's all he'll say, but it's really just a pause, since a bird flutters down to land on the brim of Cole's hat. He opens one of the boxes to take a handful of the stale cake, then holds it up for the bird to eat before he continues. ]

I didn't know what I was. Just like you're just you, I had to learn that too. One part forgotten, one part came to soothe, and two made one. So I'm just me. But I know how to listen now, and make people see me when I want to be seen.